Sacred Fire
by Flamewulf
Summary: Soul Bond Fic. Harry and Ginny have just come through the aftermath of the War, when a terrifying experience leaves them bonded. How will they deal with this mysterious new development? Where will it take them? (Rated for eventual mature themes and potential violence)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: This is my stab at the soul bond category, where I hope to introduce something different to the whole concept. Certain ideas common to several other fics will be adopted - please see this as a compliment to those other stories. :) Many thanks to **CrimsonShocker** and **Arandil** for their great beta work.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own J.K. Rowling's works and forfeit any claim of profit from publishing on this site.

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><p><strong>Sacred Fire<strong>

Chapter 01

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><p>"It is time."<p>

Harry Potter nodded, and Ron Weasley, his best friend, left the room. Harry sighed as he checked his tie in the mirror. He was not looking forward to this. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and exited the room.

Walking down the stairs and entering the kitchen, Harry observed the rest of the Weasley family gathered around the dining table, with the exception of Bill and Fleur, who were not coming along, and Charlie, who had returned to Romania. They were all dressed somberly in formal dress robes.

Harry caught Ginny's eye, and received a half-hearted smile in return.

"Ah, there you are, Harry. Good, good," said Mr. Weasley.

"We'll go quite soon; in about five minutes, I expect."

Harry nodded.

"The Portkey?" he asked.

Mr. Weasley gestured to a rolled up old newspaper lying on the table.

Harry pulled up a chair, sitting down beside Ron. They chatted for a few moments, Ron telling him about how he would accompany Hermione to see her parents in Australia. Harry had decided not to join them.

"Come everyone, the Portkey's about to activate!" called Mr Weasley.

The Weasley family, Harry, and Hermione all extended a finger to touch the rolled up newspaper. For a few seconds, they stood there, looking like fools (or so Harry thought), before the newspaper glowed blue and Harry felt the familiar jerk behind his navel.

Harry's feet slammed into the ground and he stumbled, just managing to keep himself from falling straight over. Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny were not so lucky; Mrs. Weasley and Hermione complained furiously under their breath, and Ginny grimaced as they stood, hurriedly brushing their clothes. Ron had dropped onto his knees, while George Weasley had fallen onto his backside. Only Mr. Weasley and Percy had landed smoothly.

Looking around, Harry saw a small church across the road, and realised that they had reached their destination. There were a few people entering through the open wooden doors of the church; they were dressed in attire similar to his own.

"Let's go, everyone," said Mrs Weasley, as they set off for the church.

Inside, Harry looked around curiously. He had never been inside a church before. There were stained glass windows depicting angels and people with halos around their heads. Behind the altar was a large wooden cross.

Below the cross, and in front of the pulpit, Harry saw two coffins.

His breath caught in his throat. On top of each coffin was a framed picture, both photographs showing a single person within the wooden borders. They were both people that Harry had known well, and grown close to.

Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks.

Dropping his gaze from their faces, he spotted Andromeda Tonks sitting in the front row, holding the late couple's new baby. Harry's heart clenched. He saw himself in that little boy, who would never come to know his parents, and would not remember this day.

Harry, along with the Weasley family and Hermione, filed into the second row behind Andromeda Tonks and her grandson Teddy.

Looking over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps behind her, Andromeda acknowledged Harry and directed a fleeting, sad smile at him. Harry smiled back, though he felt it was more like a grimace.

The small church continued to fill up; Harry knew that the majority of mourners were friends and family of Nymphadora. Poor Remus Lupin had, had virtually no one except Harry, Harry's late godfather Sirius Black, his own late wife-Tonks, and (to a certain extent) the Weasley family.

"… and may God bless, forevermore, Remus Lupin and his wife, Nymphadora Lupin," intoned the wizard priest.

"And now, I would like to ask Andromeda Tonks to come forward and speak a few words in memoriam of the deceased."

Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley sobbed as Andromeda struggled through her speech, frequently breaking out into tears. Even some of the men present were crying; Harry could not ignore the vast emptiness that had settled inside his chest.

At last, Andromeda finished, and _he_ was called up to also speak a few words.

Harry approached the pulpit as the priest nodded encouragingly at him, stepping off and sitting down in a little chair on the side. Harry looked over the crowd of people before him and swallowed, his mouth going dry.

"Good morning," he began.

They were all staring at him. He could see certain faces among the rows before him: the Weasley family and his two best mates were near the front; Dedalus Diggle resided in the middle row, gifting Harry an encouraging smile; various other Order members, including Kingsley Shacklebolt, slumped mournfully in their seats near the back. Harry felt the silence press about him.

"Um … as some of you know, I was friends with both Remus Lupin and his wife Nymphadora...Gosh, how she hated that name."

The people laughed half-heartily at this. Harry's nervousness decreased a bit, and he grinned briefly.

"I – I first met Remus in my third year at Hogwarts, when he became one of my teachers."

Harry's eyes closed briefly as memories swamped him.

"He was one of the best teachers I'd ever had. He has taught me some things that have helped me more times than I can count … even saved my life. We … shared a link with my dad, as they were together at school when he was a student. As my parents died when I was a small child, I didn't know much about them. However, I do now, because Remus shared some of his memories with me. We were close as a result."

Harry's breath hitched as he tried to control himself, to keep himself from breaking down.

"I-I met Nymphadora a few years before she married Remus. She was an Auror, and we met through Albus Dumbledore's organization the Order of the Phoenix_. _She was a wonderful person to be around. She was always lively, curious, and full of fun...if-if a little clumsy at times."

A few people, including Andromeda-though her face was stained with tears, smiled weakly at that.

Harry took a shaky breath.

"She was a brave person, and a great fighter. She did not shrink from responsibility or danger. She fought for what she believed in - and Remus was the same. "They were two decent people and loyal friends ... you could not ask for more."

A tear escaped from the corner of his eye, running down his cheek. He quickly wiped it off.

"Thank you."

Harry felt emotionally wrung out.

He stood outside in the Weasleys' garden, listening to the cry of distant birds and feeling the cold wind, when he heard dull footsteps and saw Ginny walking toward him. Her face was still a little puffy, although it did not detract from her beauty in Harry's eyes.

They stood together in silence, enjoying the brief solitude that the garden granted them, before Harry spoke.

"I've never felt so …"

"Wrung out?" asked Ginny.

Harry swallowed thickly, his eyebrows creased in sorrow.

"Yes."

Ginny did not speak, but waited for him. While gathering his thoughts, he focused on the large tree that grew just beyond the garden fence. Its branches swayed about lazily, hypnotically, caught on the breeze as it swept across the area.

"You know, Ginny … he was the last link I had to my parents. And now it's all gone."

He gasped, as if in pain, now fully realising the implications of what this meant. He found, to his great dismay, however, that he had no more tears to shed.

"Oh, Harry," breathed Ginny as she hugged him.

Harry hugged her back, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against his own and her flowery smell filling his nostrils. He felt his love for her fill him up, steadily eating away at the aching chasm inside him.

"I love you, Ginny."

She pulled back to look at him, fiery hair framing her freckled face.

"I love you, too, Harry."

Leaning forward with a courage dredged forth from the weight of their lingering grief, their lips met tenderly, as if everything that had happened recently was nonexistent. For that one, brief moment, everything else ceased to matter, and all he could feel was the soft brush of her lips against his own before they silently broke apart, staring tentatively into one another's eyes.

The silence persisted for a few moments more, before Harry blurted out the first thing that entered his mind.

"I spoke with Andromeda afterwards. She and I talked about Teddy."

"Their son?" Ginny asked, though she knew to whom Harry was referring.

"Yes. I'm godfather to Teddy, but as I told Andromeda, I want him to live with her for a while. I don't think I could handle a baby, and it will help Andromeda keep her mind off things."

Ginny gave a small smile.

"Trust you to always do the right thing, Harry."

With that, she leaned in and planted a soft,lingeringkiss on his lips. Pulling back, she took his hand within her smaller one as she gestured toward the house.

"Let's go inside."

...

A thousand miles away from the Burrow, a clandestine meeting was taking place within a dimly lit apartment in a derelict building.

"Good evening, everyone," addressed a tall man.

He glanced at the people seated around the table before him, making eye contact with each one.

"Thank you for coming to this council. As you know, the Dark Lord Voldemort is dead-"

"You dare to speak the Dark Lord's name?" demanded one of the seated, expression twisted in dislike.

"Yes, Selwyn," the tall man deadpanned, "I speak his name to honour him."

The Death Eater did not reply, but continued to glower at him.

Ignoring the fool, the original speaker opened his briefcase and removed a folder. Walking about the table, he handed a fresh sheet to each person. On each of them was a large black-and-white photograph of a bespectacled man, some dark text printed beneath it.

The speaker returned to the head of the table and resumed his speech.

"As each of you can see from your copy, the man responsible for the Dark Lord's death is Harry Potter. Below the photograph are some biographical details, his achievements, and so on..."

"This is all very well," interrupted Selwyn once again. "But I would like to ask how this is relevant to what we seek?"

The leader mentally ground his teeth.

"We need all the information we can get on the target, Selwyn. Are you forgetting that he was the one who killed the Dark Lord?"

"I am very well aware of that," Selwyn replied coldly.

"Then you will also be aware that he is no fool, and, though I hate to admit it, he does possess some skill."

The other sneered, "I, too, have skills. After all, it takes one of uncommon cunning to avoid the Aurors who are searching for me at this very minute!"

"I do not deny that you have skills. Nor do I deny that of anyone else in this group, for that matter. If you are displeased with the way in which I lead this group, you are free to leave. The door is open for you."

The man gestured to the large oak door, which swung open magically. Selwyn did not move from his seat, however. Instead, he replied in a careless manner, filled with excessively saccharine undertones. It almost seemed as if he cared little for how the leader thought of him.

"I am simply concerned about the success of our mission. You are young, and eager. I do not want anything to jeopardise our goal."

"Your kind concern is duly noted, but it is not necessary," the man snapped, his patience slipping a little.

Selwyn smiled coldly, but said nothing more.

The lean man returned his attention back to the rest of the group.

"Well?"

"This is a most wise course of action," a senior official of the Ministry declared. "Yes, this is how we should proceed."

"We should keep track of the target's movements," another person proclaimed.

The other members of the council nodded in agreement.

"Not too long, though," said a woman, "We must strike, and soon."

"It will be a difficult task in the best of times," murmured the Ministry official, "The target is constantly surrounded by people who will not hesitate to kill to protect him."

Silence followed that ominous comment.

"It is agreed," declared the tall man, "We will gather Intel on the target. We will choose a time to attack. And we will then avenge the Dark Lord by killing Harry Potter!"

Everyone present in the room, Selwyn included, cheered.


	2. Chapter 2

Many thanks to **CrimsonShocker** for beta-reading this chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own J.K. Rowling's works and forfeit any claim of profit from publishing on this site.

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><p><strong>Sacred Fire<strong>

Chapter 02

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><p>Harry looked up from his bedroom window as Mr. Weasley approached him, the older man taking a seat on the bed beside him.<p>

"I'd like to have a talk with you, if you wouldn't mind?" he said seriously.

"Sure. Go head," said Harry.

"I'd like to say that … well, you know, I cannot imagine how hard this must be for you."

Harry nodded reluctantly, not looking at him.

"I want you to know that my wife and I consider you part of our family. You are as a son to us."

Harry turned his gaze to Mr. Weasley, who was regarding him closely. Harry opened his mouth but nothing came out. He felt that his heart would burst from all the feelings that he felt at Mr. Weasley's words. He tried to keep his eyes from watering up and nodded more vigorously from before. Mr. Weasley understood, and smiled in acknowledgment.

"I'd like you to know that you are welcome to stay here at the Burrow for as long as you'd like."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. T-thank you very much."

"Call me Arthur," smiled Mr. Weasley as he squeezed Harry's shoulder.

"Molly will be delighted to hear that you are staying," he said as he stood.

At the door he paused and turned back towards Harry.

"And, Harry?"

"Yes, Mr. We – I mean, Arthur?"

"Treat my daughter well."

And with that, Mr. Weasley left the room, leaving a stunned Harry to his thoughts.

…

Harry watched as Ron stuffed the last of his clothes into an old brown travelling case, the redhead shoving the items into the container with careless ease before snapping the whole thing shut.

"Well, that's that!" Ron said, stepping back and brushing the dust from his hands.

"Good luck with Hermione, mate," said Harry.

"Thanks!" grinned Ron. "I gotta do this for her, Harry. I can see how difficult it's going to be for her, you know?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "I'm sure it'll work out for her and her parents."

"That's the rub, isn't it?" said Ron. "No matter what way it goes, I'm there for her."

He hoisted the heavy case onto its long side, picking it up by the leather handle.

They left the room together, Ron in the lead. He struggled down the stairs with his bulky case, having brushed off Harry's offer to help him with a hasty,"It's all right! I've got this!" Shrugging the matter off, Harry had followed.

Their friendship hadn't been quite the same since the night that Ron had walked out on them, but Harry had forgiven him for it, both having decided to move past the incident.

Entering the kitchen, Ron dropped the case to the floor; the bang that followed caught everyone's attention. Hermione, who had been waiting with her own, smaller case, ran up to and embraced him.

Mr. Weasley looked at Ron and nodded, while Mrs. Weasley was clearly trying to hold back her tears for Ron's sake, as it would embarrass him. She got up from the table and gave him a quick farewell kiss. Ginny hugged Hermione first, then Ron, while Harry clapped him on the back and simply said, "Cheers, mate." The rest of the Weasley brothers had gone back to their separate lives, leaving Ron and Ginny as the only two children left in the house.

Ron shook hands with his father, who told him, "Be careful. Oh, and try to find out how them airplanes stay up in the air for me, will you?" Mr. Weasley's expression was hopeful and teasing at the same time.

Ron laughed and said, "I'll try," before turning to Hermione.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," breathed Hermione, her nervousness evident.

"Let's go, then."

They went through the door outside to the waiting taxi car, which would take them to London, as travel by Muggle airplane was the easiest and safest method to get them to Australia. Needless to say, Hermione had taken care of the travel arrangements.

Harry and the other Weasleys watched as the car pulled away, feeling both sadness and joy in his heart. He would be alone, with the exception of Ginny and her parents, but he was excited for his two best mates; this was important for them and he wished them the best of luck.

That night, supper was a somewhat subdued affair, as two certain people were absent. Mrs. Weasley tried to act normal; she bustled about, serving her family extra-large second and third helpings. Harry and Mr. Weasley talked about the Muggle world and the various contraptions that helped that world to work, while Ginny listened in from time to time, talking with her mother about whatever it was that women talked about.

As the pudding arrived, Harry found himself watching Ginny. Her hair flowed down her back and glinted a most beautiful red when she turned her head, while he threatened to be lost forever in those chocolate eyes. Harry felt a deep ache inside as he watched her. She caught him looking and mouthed, "_What?_"

"Oh, nothing," Harry smiled at her, "I just like looking at you."

Ginny flushed and Harry thought of how pretty it made her look; she turned away, smiling.

Later, when the dishes had been put away, Ginny came and stood before Harry.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Ginny?" asked Harry, his heart beating a little fast.

"Would you like to come outside with me?" she said hopefully.

Harry grinned at her, grabbing her hand and leading her outside into the night. Unbeknowest to them as they went outside, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged amused glances.

"Let's stop here," said Ginny as they walked toward the pond. Harry took a deep breath of fresh night air. The crescent moon was shining high above them and they could hear the chirping of crickets.

He dropped his gaze back down to Ginny, who was watching him with her dark orbs. Her eyes reflected the light of the moon and the stars.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" Harry asked her as he leaned in to kiss her.

She grinned and they kissed deeply. Their tongues wrestled with one another as Harry's hand snaked its way up into her hair. They pressed themselves against one another before finally breaking for air.

"Oh, gods," breathed Harry as he ran his fingers through Ginny's hair; he loved the feel of it sliding through his fingers, never tiring of it.

"Oh, yes," whispered Ginny. Her hands, which had been hanging around Harry's back, came up, digging into his own hair.

"I love you, Harry Potter," Ginny whispered.

"And I love you, Ginny Weasley," he breathed back.

They came together for an even more tender kiss.

…

_CLICK - CLICK - CLICK._

The woman smiled as the couple made their way back to the dilapidated house, lowering her bulky camera. Her male companion crouched silently beside her as they watched the two dark figures retreating.

"They are all alone," he whispered, "We must strike now!" He raised his wand menacingly.

"No!" hissed the woman, "You know our orders. We are to watch their movements. Nothing more."

The man next to her grumbled softly, "Look, Marietta. We are here. _He_ isn't -"

"You know he will have our necks if we act rashly!" the woman, Marietta, snarled.

Their leader had powerful connections, and she knew it would be a fatal mistake to cross him.

"Listen, you idiot. We have to be patient. We will get to Harry Potter in some way," the woman sneered. "And we will make sure that happens quite soon."

"Hmph..."

They looked out at the scene before them. The two people, Potter and the blood traitor brat, had gone inside while they had been arguing. The spies watched the house for a few more moments, before Marietta whispered, "Let's go."

They promptly Disapparated.


	3. Chapter 3

Many thanks to **CrimsonShocker** for beta-reading this chapter.

**Author's note**: I apologise for the long time gap between this chapter and the last update. Let me take the opportunity to warn you guys that my uploading is subject to my life demands - namely, my studies. Don't let that get in the way of enjoying my story, though! Thanks guys :) I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own J.K. Rowling's works and forfeit any claim of profit from publishing on this site.

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><p><strong>Sacred Fire<strong>

Chapter 03

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><p>The dawn light shone pinkish over the valley where Ottery St. Catchpole nestled. A pigeon rested on a windowsill, preening itself, preparing for the new day. Then its head came up, it puffed its breast, and it began to coo loudly to the rising sun.<p>

_Doo - doo - doo - dooderoo – doo – doo …_

**BANG!**

The sound caused the pigeon to take off into the air from fright in mid-song. Someone had slammed a hand into the window behind the bird.

Harry Potter listened to the flapping sounds of the retreating bird, before sinking back onto his pillows.

Harry temporarily closed his eyes, still groggy, then checked the banged up old watch that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had given him for his seventeenth birthday. It was gold, with stars in place of hands, circling around the face. It told him that it was half-past six in the morning. Harry sighed, figuring that, now that he was awake, he might as well get up.

As he dressed, he thought back to the previous night and the kiss that he and Ginny had shared, his heart filling over anew with the love he felt for her. Now that Voldemort was dead, Harry could actually look forward to having a future. He wanted that future to include Ginny.

With a jolt, he realised that he did not know how much he had, or what he owned. He felt disturbed at the prospect. It had never bothered him before, as it had not been important; the long shadow of Voldemort had shifted everything else aside.

Now that Ginny was back in his life, Harry realised that he wanted her to be with him for the _rest_ of his life. He wanted to provide the best for her! He resolved to write to Bill to set up an appointment for him with whoever handled his account at Gringotts. Looking about the bedroom, he saw Pigwidgeon, the owl that Sirius Black had given Ron, which had been left behind as Hermione had explained that animals in general were not allowed on board aeroplanes. Pigwidgeon was also too small to handle journeys carrying post across continents. Harry walked over to the tiny owl and fed it a few Owl Treats. His own stomach rumbled and he decided to first have breakfast, then write his letter.

The smell of eggs and bacon cooking reached his nostrils causing his mouth to water. Mrs. Weasley smiled at him and asked, "Would you like some tea, dear?"

"Yes, please," said Harry.

As he seated himself, Mr. Weasley came into the kitchen, still in his gown and pyjamas.

"Morning, Harry," Mr. Weasley grunted as he picked up that morning's Daily Prophet.

"What are you doing today?" asked Mrs. Weasley of Harry as she piled eggs and bacon onto both her husband and Harry's plates.

"I'm thinking of writing Bill."

"Oh? Why?"

"I'm thinking about what I have in my vault … you know?" said Harry a little uncomfortably.

Though the Weasleys were no longer quite so poor as they used to be, what with most of their children out of the house, it still made Harry uneasy that he, nevertheless, had much more than they.

"I see," said Mr. Weasley as he put the Daily Prophet back down to look at Harry.

"Well, you know what, Harry. I will personally contact Bill and have him come talk to you. What do you think?"

Harry nodded slowly as he considered Mr. Weasley's proposal. "I don't see why not. Many thanks, Arthur."

"No problem at all," smiled Mr. Weasley.

"Where is Ginny, Arthur?" said Mrs. Weasley a little irritably as she set a cup of tea in front of Harry's plate.

"I believe that she is sleeping in as usual," replied her husband.

"Oh, honestly …" sighed Mrs. Weasley. "Alright, I suppose I'll have to wake her up." She said, leaving the room.

Harry felt slightly amused and wished that _he_ were the one going to wake her up. Ah, the possibilities …

Putting it out of his mind for the time being, Harry turned to Mr. Weasley.

"How is work coming along?" he asked.

"It's coming on pretty well, actually," replied Mr Weasley. "Now that You-Know … well, I suppose I can say his name now that he's truly dead. All thanks to you, by the way," Mr. Weasley smiled. "Now that V-v-v …" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Now that V-v … _Voldemort_," - he shuddered involuntarily - " … is dead, all that remains to do now is round up his followers, put them on trial, and hopefully send them to Azkaban. There is also the matter of sending the giants back home, and cleaning up the mess left behind from the war."

"I hope Hagrid's brother, Grawp, can stay behind. He did help so much at Hogwarts."

"I don't think we need to worry about him," nodded Mr. Weasley, a little absently.

Harry was sure that both of them were remembering the casualties of the war, especially Fred, but they were ignoring it as best as they could, choosing to avoid the painful subject.

"I'm kind of worried about Azkaban, though. Who will protect it?"

"As I'm sure you are aware, the war affected other magical creatures as well as wizards. The goblins have agreed to become the guardians of Azkaban as compensation for the deaths of Gornuk, and several other goblins, who suffered at the hands of the Death Eaters."

"Isn't that a bit risky?" frowned Harry.

"It is. However, as you may know, most goblins are indifferent to wizard disputes. Many also have no love for Death Eaters as they have suffered losses like us," said Mr Weasley wisely.

Their talk was interrupted as Mrs. Weasley came into the kitchen, followed shortly thereafter by Ginny, still in her nightdress. Harry's heart swelled with love at the sight of her; even though she looked tired and her hair was completely messed up from sleep, she was still unbelievably beautiful in Harry's eyes.

Ginny turned to her father who gave her a one-armed hug from his seat and muttered to her, "Hello, my little firefly." She caught Harry grinning at her and stuck her tongue out at him as she returned her father's hug.

"What are we doing today?" she asked as she sat down next to Harry. Harry's heart beat a little faster. Seemingly oblivious to the effect she had on Harry, Ginny picked up her toast and started buttering it.

"You're helping me with the laundry today, Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley, earning a groan from Ginny in response.

"Do I _have_ to?"

"Yes, you have to," said her mother sharply. "Really, Ginny …"

"I'll help," Harry put in quickly.

Ginny turned to him at once, smiling.

"Oh, Harry!"

"That's very sweet of you, dear," began Mrs. Weasley. "But you don't have to feel obligated…"

"No, please, I really want to help."

With a sigh, Mrs. Weasley looked at her husband and then back to Harry.

"Well, if you insist …"

…

Mrs. Weasley had gone out to hang some of the washing, leaving Harry and Ginny behind to sort out the rest of the clothes.

"I wonder how our friends are doing?" mused Harry as he tossed a couple of socks into the laundry basket.

"I miss them," said Ginny. She was holding up an old shirt, looking at its colour critically. "No, this one looks horrible." She tossed the shirt aside and looked at Harry. "Why don't we go visit them?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," agreed Harry enthusiastically. "Who, though?"

"I'm thinking Luna," Ginny muttered.

"Isn't she close by or something?"

"Yeah, just over the hills from here."

"That's what Ron said," said Harry remembering.

"What?"

"Never mind," Harry said quickly. "Just something from the war. Remember when Xenophilius was arrested?"

Ginny nodded, sucking in her lip. "I'd rather not remember the _details_ of the war. You know, Harry?"

A strained silence settled over them both. Suddenly, shockingly, Ginny burst into tears.

Harry froze at the sight of her shaking as tears poured uncontrollably down her cheeks. What was going on? What had he done to make her cry? Fear and uncertainty warred within his mind. Harry wanted to flee the room, comfort Ginny, and apologise to her all at the same time; the conflicting emotions left him paralysed as a result.

Ginny had turned away from him, her wet face hidden by her small hands.

Suddenly Harry found his resolve. Ignoring the fear still clenching his stomach, Harry went over to Ginny and drew her gently into his arms. He held her for a while, standing silently, stroking her hair, whispering sweet nothings into her ear while she wept.

Finally, Ginny's body stopped shaking and she relaxed within Harry's arms, wiping her eyes as she began calming down.

"It's – it's just so hard …" she muttered thickly. Harry said nothing at first, stroking her, running his fingers through her hair, pressing her to his chest.

"I know," he breathed, his voice betraying none of the fear and uncertainty he still felt.

"I – I miss Fred …" Ginny's chin trembled as she threatened to break into tears again.

A cold, dead feeling settled inside Harry. He closed his eyes, burying his face into her hair, as his mind went awash with memories.

Fred laughing as he promised his little sister a toilet seat from Hogwarts. Fred smiling as if he had just pulled off a prank. Fred staring at him intently as Harry saw the Marauder's Map for the first time. Fred whispering to him about the products they were making for their joke shop. Fred, deadly serious, as they protested their mother's orders to leave the Order meeting. Fred, grinning as he and George pulled one over Dolores Umbridge before leaving Hogwarts. Fred, telling him that he could take whatever he wished from their shop in Diagon Alley. Fred, gleeful with his wand out in battle, Fred's face laughing as he turned to Percy … before the explosion came, ripping his life forever from everyone who knew him.

Harry's hand came up and pressed Ginny's head to his shoulder as he stood, his eyes closing, wanting to fix the image of Fred just before he died forever into his brain.

Then his eyes opened and he took in the walls of the laundry room. Harry stood back to take in Ginny, critically. Her tear-stained face was upturned to him.

"I understand completely," he whispered. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

"So, Luna it is then."

Ginny gave a tremulous smile and wiped at her face again.

"Yeah. How about tomorrow?" Ginny gave him a questioning look.

"Good idea."

They decided on the time they would leave the Burrow for Luna's place. Harry wondered how Luna had been doing and what she was up to nowadays. He'd find out tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

Many thanks to **CrimsonShocker** for beta-reading this chapter.

**Author's note**: A very short time gap since the last chapter - I hope this pleases you! ;)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own J.K. Rowling's works and forfeit any claim of profit from publishing on this site.

* * *

><p><strong>Sacred Fire<strong>

Chapter 04

* * *

><p>"And where are you two going?" said Mrs. Weasley.<p>

Her appearance at the kitchen door brought Ginny and Harry to a surprised halt.

Mr. Weasley also appeared, wondering what was going on, if the expression on his face was anything to go by. Harry and Ginny glanced at one another; they had forgotten to tell Ginny's parents of their plan to visit Luna.

"Oh. Ah … Mum, Dad, we're going to see the Lovegoods! I hope you don't mind?" Ginny called from where she and Harry stood.

"I see … why didn't you tell us?"

Harry and Ginny exchanged glances again. "We … er … um … forgot to tell you …" mumbled Ginny guiltily.

"_Please_ do tell us in future, all right? Say hello to them for us!" said Mrs. Weasley. She disappeared back into the house. Mr. Weasley waved to them in farewell before following his wife.

Harry and Ginny turned and walked down the street to the edge of the village. It was overcast above and a little chilly, with a breeze blowing. They steered towards the wooded hills. Off in the far distance, they saw the hill that was the site of the portkey that had taken them to the Quidditch World Cup four years previously. This brought back memories for Harry and he pointed the hill out to Ginny. They shared a laugh thinking about the struggle they had in climbing the hill to the top, and soon were talking about Quidditch in general. As soon as the village was out of sight, Harry looked around before he grasped Ginny's hand, and they Disapparated.

"Ooh, I hate that," complained Ginny after they landed, rubbing her folded arms and shivering in distaste.

"You get kind of used to it," Harry said blandly.

Before long they were walking towards the odd tower-like house in which Luna Lovegood and her father lived.

Reaching the door, Harry and Ginny paused to take in their surrounding and regain their breath after the walk up the hill, then Harry reached out, knocking on the door.

A few moments passed before the door opened and Harry found himself face to face with Xenophilius Lovegood.

He looked better than the last time they had met, wearing clean clothes once more, even if the colours were still a little loud, and his hair was neat; his expression was brighter, but immediately clouded when he saw Harry.

An awkward silence stretched between them, before Ginny decided to break the ice.

She moved forward and held out her hand to Xenophilius, saying, "Hi, I'm Ginny Weasley, a friend of Luna's."

Jerking his gaze from Harry's face, Xenophilius looked Ginny up and down before accepting her handshake. He responded, "Ginny Weasley, eh? Luna has told me so much about you – please, do come in, come in." He stepped back to admit her.

Xenophilius avoided Harry's eyes as he followed Ginny into the house. Closing the door behind them, the elder Lovegood turned and said, "Well, would you like anything? Gurdyroot tea, or biscuits, or …"

"Oh, no, but thank you very much," answered Ginny politely. She had heard horror stories from Harry and her parents about Xenophilius's cooking. "Is Luna in?"

"Yes," replied Xenophilius. "She's up in her room, studying the plants that the Crumble-horned Snorkack likes to eat, blessed thing."

"I'm sure," smiled Ginny, before she went up the stairs. Harry stayed behind, as he wanted to clear the air with Xenophilius Lovegood.

"Listen," he began.

Xenophilius was not looking at him, but went to the curved sink, grabbed his kettle, and began filling it.

"Xenophilius."

At his name, Xenophilius looked at Harry before snapping his eyes away just as quickly.

"I know that you were desperate," Harry said. "I want you to know that I don't blame you, even though it did hurt at the time." He paused.

Xenophilius's mouth twisted a bit, then stilled as he took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Harry Potter. It's just … I didn't expect you to come back here; not after what I did."

"Luna is my friend," said Harry simply. "I just want you to know that it's in the past now. Even though you … did what you did, I still remember all the support that you gave me. It really helped me a lot."

Xenophilius waved a hand. "It really was nothing. H-Harry - forgive me, please. I wouldn't be able to do so for myself."

"As I said, it's in the past. I forgive you."

They shook hands, Xenophilius's hesitant and trembling, Harry's firm and gentle.

…

Harry came through the trapdoor and saw Ginny and Luna chatting quietly. They looked around at him as he approached. Luna stood up and hugged him. She was looking almost normal today; she wore an apron with floral patterns over her shirt and jeans and had donned her radish earrings.

"How are you, Luna?"

"Oh, I'm great," said Luna in her usual dreamy voice. "I was just looking at what plants the Crumble-horned Snorkack eats, look," she gestured to the twigs and leaves on her desk. A dirty pair of gardening gloves lay discarded to one side on the desk.

"This is oak, and this is holly, and that's aspen … oh, and this is a Filliebilly branch, and this is Snarkly, and …" Luna continued to name the plants, which were completely unrecognisable to Harry and Ginny.

As Luna finished, Ginny spoke up, turning to Harry. "We were just talking about Hogwarts. You know, who will go back and who won't."

"Oh –right. You can count me in on that for sure."

"What?" said Luna as they all sat down. "You will go back, or you won't go back?"

"I'm sorry Luna. But I won't go back. I … it's a complicated decision and I'm still thinking about it," he confessed.

"Are you going to do something with Gringotts, Harry?" asked Ginny, giving Harry a start.

"No, why?"

"I just heard you and Dad talking, and he was saying something about Bill seeing you?"

"Oh yeah, this morning! No, no, that's just a different matter. It's kind of private," said Harry.

"Right."

"What are you doing then, if you are not going to Hogwarts?" asked Luna.

"I'm still thinking of becoming an Auror," Harry said.

"Still interested in that kind of thing?" said Luna. Her pale eyes fastened on Harry's.

"Yeah," he said. "I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing."

Luna nodded slowly. "I would also rather do what I enjoy." She gestured at the plants on her desk again.

"Um … I have something to tell you guys," Ginny mumbled, chewing her lip. Harry and Luna looked at her.

"I … I'd like to be a Quidditch player." She blushed.

Harry looked blank for a moment, before his face split into a wide grin, while Luna gasped, leapt at Ginny and hugged her.

"That is a great idea!" said Harry enthusiastically. Luna nodded, beaming.

"Um … yeah," Ginny nodded nervously before she, too, grinned. "Thanks guys."

"Who do you want to play for?" asked Harry.

"The Holyhead Harpies. Sorry Harry, but all-girl teams rule!"

"Nah," scoffed Harry in a good-natured manner. "Suit yourself." He stuck his tongue out at her, and she stuck her own tongue in return. Luna giggled quietly.

A comfortable silence settled in the room, the three people enjoying each other's company.

"Shall we go for a walk?" asked Luna after a while, jumping to her feet.

Harry and Ginny's legs were somewhat weary from their ascent up the hill, but they agreed.

"Sure!"


	5. Chapter 5

Kudos to **CrimsonShocker** for beta-reading this chapter.

**Author's note**: Another chapter! Woohoo! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own J.K. Rowling's works and forfeit any claim of profit from publishing on this site.

* * *

><p><strong>Sacred Fire<strong>

Chapter 05

* * *

><p>Harry, Ginny, and Luna decided to walk down to the stream beyond the house, Luna informing them that, if they were lucky, they would get to see the Gulping Plimpies. She then skipped ahead, leaving Harry and Ginny to wonder exactly what kind of creature Plimpies were.<p>

"Look! A Nargle!" Luna pointed. Harry and Ginny quickly looked to see what Luna had spotted, but all they saw were some bracken swaying as if something had just run under it.

"Oh, it's gone …" said Luna, her face falling a little.

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other before Ginny said, "Er … I'm sure we'll see it again."

"Oh, yes," said Luna, her bright, weird self once more.

"Don't they infest mistletoe?" asked Harry, earning an odd look from Ginny. Luna nodded but said nothing more, instead choosing to walk ahead, the other two following.

Finally, they heard the gurgle of water running over the ground, and found themselves entering into an increasingly marshy area with a stream trickling through it. Tall reeds rustled in the wind around them, and they could hear the croak of frogs and the calling of waterbirds. A dragonfly zipped past them.

Luna turned around and beamed at them.

"Do you like it?" she asked them.

Harry nodded slowly as he looked around, taking in his surroundings. The sounds were unfamiliar but not unpleasant, once you got used to it.

He looked back at Luna and said, "It's beautiful."

They spent much of the afternoon picking their way among the marsh with Luna pointing out her favourite spots to them and mentioning the unusual names that she had chosen for these places, resting on the bank whenever their legs felt tired.

Eventually the afternoon sun dipped through the sky, enough so that it started to get dark, and the trio decided to leave for home.

They returned back the way they had come. Once Luna's house was back in sight, she bade them farewell, and Harry and Ginny turned back for the Burrow.

"Well, that was fun," remarked Harry as they walked.

"Yeah," agreed Ginny. "Luna's quite special that way."

They both laughed and then lapsed into a comfortable silence.

After a while, Harry wondered, "What will your mother make for dinner tonight, Ginny?"

His girlfriend shrugged. "Perhaps roast chicken and vegetables? Whatever she makes, it's always good."

Harry smiled and made an agreeable noise, his mouth watering at the thought of supper that night.

They walked on, getting closer to their destination point, from where they would Disapparate to Ottery St. Catchpole.

Ginny paused, bringing Harry up short. She turned her head up to the heavens, which were becoming heavily blanketed with dark grey clouds. Harry felt a drop of water splash onto his face, and he, too, looked up. A light drizzle of soft rain began to fall onto their faces.

"It's so nice to feel," said Ginny, her eyes closed.

Harry hesitated, before copying her and closed his eyes. He felt the patter of rain sprinkle his face. It was a funny feeling. In a sense it was actually quite liberating, as he had always hunkered down and shied away from the rain before wherever possible. Harry had played Quidditch in rain and storms and, as such, was used to it. However, it didn't mean that he had _enjoyed_ it. After a moment he opened his eyes and looked back down. He could feel the weather beginning to turn heavier.

Harry tugged on Ginny's sleeve and motioned vaguely to the distant point where they would Disapparate.

"Let's go," he said amicably.

It was then that the dark figure appeared from out of the trees in front of them.

Harry froze; he then abruptly threw Ginny to the ground, ignoring her startled, indignant cry. Harry recognised the man before him at once from the Battle of Hogwarts; he had been there when Harry had given himself up to Voldemort.

"Selwyn!" Harry hissed.

Selwyn leered at them, holding out his wand lazily.

"You're trapped, Potter!" he cried.

Ginny suddenly thrust out her wand and a bang sounded; Selwyn fell to his knees, clawing at the air as … things … flew out of his nose and swarmed all over his face.

Harry pulled Ginny up; they turned and fled. They flew over the ground as they ran, their breath coming in short gasps.

Harry's mind screamed incoherently at himself, "_Get away! Get away, get away, get away!_"

They ran over open ground for a moment, and then veered sharply into a copse of trees to their right. They stumbled through the undergrowth and burst out to the other side. They saw the place where they had Apparated earlier. If they reached it …

_No time!_ Harry seized Ginny and pirouetted on the spot. No darkness came; no squeezing sensation arrived to save them. Instead, all Harry succeeded in achieving was to make himself and Ginny almost lose their balance.

"_What are you doing!"_ hissed Ginny, hitting Harry with her hand in a bid to make him loosen his painful grip on her.

Harry cursed. "Tried to Disapparate. They must've done anti-Apparation wards!"

Not waiting for his girlfriend to reply, Harry pulled at her again and set off at a brisk trot, his wand at the ready.

Suddenly something seized Harry's ankle and he tripped, bringing down Ginny with him.

"Do_ not _run, Harry Potter," said a voice, different from Selwyn's and yet inexplicably familiar.

Harry looked frantically at his ankle and saw nothing there. He jerked his head to look up at the speaker.

Blaise Zabini stood tall and proud above them, his haughty eyes surveying them with his customary disdain, impervious to the rain which was now becoming a downpour.

"_You_," began Harry.

"Me," repeated Zabini calmly. "My people were watching Lovegood's house. I suppose you are surprised that I support the Dark Lord's ideals, Potter?"

Harry did not reply, but rose on his hands and knees, looking for a way out.

Zabini pointed his wand at Harry.

"Do not move. I will make your death quick."

"_Stupefy_!" Ginny's cry caught Zabini off guard; he had been focusing on Harry.

Zabini barely managed to block her spell as Harry shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!"

Immediately Harry scrambled upright, Ginny with him, her face defiant, as Zabini's wand flew from his hand and out of sight. As Harry blasted Zabini off his feet, he and Ginny whirled about, seeing more people appear around them: Gregory Goyle, Marcus Flint, Pansy Parkinson, a few others, and Selwyn himself.

Ginny and Harry fired off more spells, knocking Goyle to the ground and winding Flint, but the others retaliated and blasted curses of their own. Harry ducked as a Killing Curse flew over his head. He sliced his wand through the air and cried, "_Sectumsempra_!"

A middle-aged man screamed as his face and body was gashed open as if slashed with a sword. He collapsed to the ground. Harry, ignoring him, cast a Blasting Hex at Goyle, who was attempting to use a Cruciatus curse on Ginny. Ginny was fighting back furiously on her own, her kinship with her uncles Gideon and Fabian Prewett evident. A girl with an odd disfigurement on her face – Harry had a powerful feeling he'd seen her somewhere before - was shrieking her head off, her hair set on fire; a man was doubled over, clutching at his stomach.

However, Harry knew that they were losing the battle. He and Ginny were accumulating several injuries to various parts of their bodies as the battle raged longer; there was a burning sensation in his side and his arm was tiring from the waving of his wand and twisting about to meet all their foes; blood was running down the side of Ginny's face, and she was limping.

"_Expuls_-"

Harry felt Ginny slump against him and slide down to the ground. Anger and fear exploded inside Harry, and his attacks came more furiously, packed with more power than before. Two enemies were cut down under his onslaught, while others were horribly injured. Whirling about, Harry pointed his wand at the ground under his enemies' feet and screamed, "_Confringo_!"

The soil erupted from under the Death Eaters' feet and flung them up and away from Harry and the prone figure at his feet.

Harry reeled about again, and saw the two most dangerous people in front of him – Selwyn and Zabini, who seemed to have recovered his lost wand. Both of them raised their wands.

"_Die, Harry Potter!_" one screamed.

Twin beams of light hit Harry; one in his face, the other into his chest. His head snapped back from the force of the spell as he found himself fly up into the air, the other, crushing force hitting his chest, lifting him, as he felt his skin burst open. His eyes shut involuntarily for a second. His mouth opened but nothing came out. Then the earth was rising, rushing up to meet him; they crashed with jarring force.

For a moment, nothing moved. Then Harry slowly, slowly lifted his bleeding head and faintly saw the red-haired figure lying a short distance away. Slowly, painfully, acidic fire burning through every fibre of his body, Harry began to crawl towards that mane of red hair. He felt another dull impact upon his body, and he ploughed several metres through the soil. He struggled onto his side and found himself looking down at the top of Ginny's head. His hand trembled violently as it inched down toward Ginny … and then Harry Potter knew no more.

…

The people around them lowered their wands, hardly daring to believe what they had witnessed. Selwyn and Zabini stood in silence, gazing down at the two still figures on the ground with other bodies strewn about them.

"I … I can't believe it … we - we actually managed to … and so _quickly_ …" Selwyn looked up at Zabini, his eyes shining with astonishment and disbelief. The other man gazed at the former Death Eater haughtily. He said, "That's what comes of careful planning and foresight, Selwyn. Not blind rushing about in an all-out attack at the first chance, like you advocated; that would have … failed."

While Selwyn brindled at the rebuke, Blaise returned his gaze to the dead figures on the ground.

Then Selwyn strode forward and kicked the body of Harry Potter over and spat on it.

"Enough!" snarled Zabini, his hand flying up to still the other's protests. Selwyn glowered at him resentfully. Ignoring him, Zabini strode forward, picking his way among the corpses. He jarred to a halt as he saw Pansy Parkinson among the dead. He stood frozen for a moment, but then, looking as if it cost him dearly, resolutely turned away and stepped over to Harry Potter's body.

Zabini stood mutely, staring into Harry Potter's grimy face. Then he bent down and pressed his fingers against Potter's throat. After a moment, he stood up, giving the body one last look, before his eyes snapped up and met everyone's penetrating gazes.

"Harry Potter is dead!" Zabini roared, thrusting his wand into the air.

The other people roared with him, punching their own wands into the air in victory.

Selwyn turned and shouted, "_MORSMORDRE_!"

Something vast, green and glittering erupted high into the sky, and settled into place, hanging over the lot of them and illuminating the area beneath with a sickly, greenish light.

The Dark Mark. Voldemort's sign.

With an impassive expression, Zabini returned to Pansy's body and lifted it gently up into his arms.

"Let us depart," he declared, and one by one, the conspirators who were left alive Disapparated.

The rain continued to fall.


	6. Chapter 6

Many thanks to **CrimsonShocker** for beta-reading this chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own J.K. Rowling's works and forfeit any claim of profit from publishing on this site.

* * *

><p><strong>Sacred Fire<strong>

Chapter 06

* * *

><p>The gloom of the void pressed itself onto Harry's eyes.<p>

Harry felt no emotion. No thoughts crossed his mind. He had no senses: sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch.

Nothing.

The opaque, colourless mist of the void swirled before him. Harry had a sense of flying through the vast emptiness. He sensed it was without limit; there was no end to it. How he realised this, Harry did not know. He simply sensed it.

The mist congealed and began to dissipate.

Harry found himself in an enormous room with a ceiling so high it could not be seen. The four corners, immeasurable distances stretching between them, rose and curved inwards high into the sky – for sky it was - and faded into nothingness. People were standing motionless as far as the eye could see.

And it was silent, but for the low background noise of indistinct whispering coming from all directions.

The panorama itself was colourless; only black, shades of grey and white could be discerned – people, the floor, the rolling hills off in the distance, the clouds above them, the four walls enclosing them all.

Harry felt no awe or fear as he took in the sights; he simply looked and noted.

A faint sensation crept into Harry's chest where there had been nothing before. Harry frowned slightly; the sensation … was burning … made him feel …

… _he had to go somewhere … _

Harry began to walk, weaving his way through the vast, endless crowd of silent people.

… _find something …_

Harry walked through the crowd. Millions of people, simply standing in the deafening silence. Person after person passed before him; each of them was turned toward him.

… _find someone …_

Harry lengthened his pace. He felt no emotion save the compulsion that carried him. He felt no consternation, no anger – nothing - as the blank eyes of the people turned to follow him while he passed.

… _needed to get to someone…_

The whispering in his ears grew more insistent; he further quickened his pace. Soon he was pushing past the people as he turned this way and that. He did not stop to look or apologise.

Further and further he walked, blind and deaf to all else, save reaching his goal. Person after person gave way before him**: **children, young adults, middle-aged people, and old geriatrics**;** tall and short, male and female, fat and thin – all stepped back as he strode along.

Still he sought his purpose.

Harry stopped abruptly. Before him stood a man, about seventeen years of age. Harry gazed at him. The other man stared blankly back. The whispering rushed through Harry's head; a note in it changed, as if Harry could now distinguish multiple voices in the undercurrent of sound.

_Cedric Diggory._

The whispering became clearer; a single voice spoke over the others.

_Harry … be who you are._

Harry turned from Diggory's motionless figure and continued on his way, ignoring the man behind him, forgetting him, the insistent need to find someone … _a_ someone … consuming him, all through his body; it would not make room for any other emotion or intention.

Soon Harry could recognise other faces as he moved through the crowd.

_Bertha Jorkins._

_Colin Creevey._

_Amelia Bones._

_Quirrell._

He passed them all and did not stop to look at them; he noted their faces and moved on.

A figure turned before him.

Severus Snape's empty eyes bored into his own. Snape's face held a familiar sneer.

_Are you capable? Will you still play the hero, Potter?_

He passed Snape and walked towards the sea of people ahead of him; it parted to either side of him no matter what pace he set, whether he moved faster or slower.

Lily and James Potter, Sirius Black, Tonks and Remus Lupin stood together as a unit; their faces, though otherwise blank, were set in smiles.

_We believe in you, Harry._

_Do not blame yourself, Harry._

Harry pressed harder. The burning feeling was stronger … much stronger …

… _find her …_

Alastor Moody glared at him with his mismatched eyes.

_Constant vigilance_, he rasped, though his mouth did not move.

The floor was changing, becoming irregular, uneven. Stones, large and small, appeared on the ground. Harry found himself climbing over gullies and small mounds. People stood in his way on every inch of the ground in any direction Harry cared to look.

As he ascended yet another rampart, Harry looked up. Albus Dumbledore watched him with an impassive expression.

_Remember, Harry, that your power is love._

Harry ignored him as he caught a glimpse of a glow in the distance, breaking into a run. More faces passed; more and more familiar they became; the majority of the people who died in the Battle of Hogwarts; Florean Fortescue; the faces of his grandparents and the rest of his lost family; Dobby; Barty Crouch Senior and Junior; Gellert Grindelwald; Rufus Scrimgeour; Ted Tonks; Fred Weasley. The whispers rushed madly about in Harry's brain.

_Go, Harry._

_Careful, Potter._

_Your purpose, Harry?_

_Be great, Harry __Potter, sir__!_

_Your time is not finished, Harry._

_Will you look after her? Will you, Harry?_

A flat-topped hill rose up before him; the glow rested atop it. Harry set a foot on the trail that wound itself around to the top.

… _so close …_

'Round and **'**round he ran, and the sea of humanity, spread out before him, grew bigger as he ascended.

Finally Harry rose to the top; upon the plateau was a large archway with a fluttering black curtain and a single figure. The girl was the source of the glow that Harry had seen, and to which he had been drawn. Her mane of red hair was the single piece of vibrancy in that dank, colourless world. She turned as he came nearer.

Their eyes were lost in each other's, drinking their partner's presence in as they fell into one another's arms.

_Harry._

_Ginny._

The crowd of people below began to clap their hands as the couple above them leaned into one another and kissed.

Harry and Ginny were lost in their kiss, in the smell and taste of one another as the tumultuous crescendo of applause rose about them; the applause continued to sound as the light in the room flared white and everything disappeared.


	7. Chapter 7

Many thanks to **CrimsonShocker** for beta-reading this chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own J.K. Rowling's works and forfeit any claim of profit from publishing on this site.

* * *

><p><strong>Sacred Fire<strong>

Chapter 07

* * *

><p>Harry felt warm heat wash over him as he rested. He could feel his body pressing against a horizontal surface, the pressure of gravity pinning him to the ground. He could feel a body pushed up against his side. Another wave of gentle heat rushed through him, and he cracked open his eyes.<p>

_Too bright!_ Harry quickly shut them again. When he felt that his eyes could handle the light, he opened them.

A red glow, imbued with bright orange and gold, suffused through the air. Harry lay on his back, staring upwards. He closed his eyes, held them shut for a moment – he was so tired – and opened them again. His sight was a little clearer – though Harry noticed something was missing - and he saw massive flames surrounding and washing over him, blocking out any other sight. The heat suffused into his body, leaving no place untouched. The fire licked him from top to bottom; he could feel another wave of benign heat wash over him wherever the fire rolled across his body, and yet he was not burnt. He could feel the scratch of his clothes. So that wasn't gone either.

Harry was so tired.

He watched the flames spin and roil above him, bathing him, cleansing him.

Harry realised that he could hear. As he did, he noticed the soft music of a phoenix song playing in his ears, an undercurrent of sound that caressed and comforted him while he lay there as the flames roared above and about him.

His eyes began to pick out a form in the dancing flames.

Harry stared in wonder.

It was a phoenix – _was_ it? - a great, beautiful, massive phoenix; a thousand times the size of Dumbledore's bird, Fawkes; as large as a dragon. Harry knew that the bird, though as elegant and majestic as any phoenix, was too large for it to actually be one. Its enormous wings were stretched out to either side of him. Harry gazed into the not-phoenix's face. Its eyes were twin embers of smouldering flame and flickered as the bird, towering above him, returned his gaze. Its beak was obsidian black, in contrast to the rest of its body, where the plumage was a gaudy, burnt orange. As Harry watched, he discerned more colours within the feathers – cheerful yellows, intense ochre, pale browns and even a flicker of light, electric blue.

The flames rolled off to either side, keeping the phoenix visible and exposing Harry to the open air above. He saw stars, barely visible in the glow of the fire's light, and his eyes were drawn to a part of the sky that was obscured by a huge apparition that hung in midair. It was a large, sickly green skull nestled within a bed of clouds and**,** as Harry watched, a long snake slithered out of the skull's mouth as some hideous travesty of a tongue.

The song roared louder in Harry's ears. The not-phoenix flared its wings and threw back its head. A single ball of fire shot out of the bird's open mouth and flew upward towards the skull. It crashed into the apparition and was absorbed into it. For a moment, nothing happened; then lines of fire shot throughout the image and it imploded in on itself.

Harry was so tired.

When he re-opened his eyes, the Dark Mark had dissipated, leaving nothing but the open sky behind.

Harry felt the not-phoenix's warm gaze upon him.

He was so _tired_.

Harry closed his eyes and everything went dark as he dropped off to sleep, the phoenix song still ringing in his ears.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note**: I am terribly, terribly sorry for the months-long delay. Both my beta and I have been busy with year-end exams, holidays, and registration for the upcoming semester. I greatly appreciate your understanding. :-) I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

Many thanks to **CrimsonShocker** for beta-reading this chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own J.K. Rowling's works and forfeit any claim of profit from publishing on this site.

* * *

><p><strong>Sacred Fire<strong>

Chapter 08

* * *

><p>Harry's eyes jerked open as he woke from the horrible nightmare in which a hidden, faceless enemy taunted him as he sat helpless. Breathing heavily, his eyes darted about, making sure that his surroundings were safe. Harry blinked, still disorientated. He vaguely remembered an open nighttime sky; yet, he saw instead a white ceiling, of some sort or another. As Harry raised his head from his pillow –<p>

**His pillow...? **

He saw unfamiliar surroundings. He was lying in a bed in a long, plain white room with a sunlit window on his left and several other beds on his right and opposite him. The sterile, sharp smell of disinfectant assaulted his nostrils.

Harry slumped back.

He was in a hospital.

But where? Harry was not in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts - he knew that much. He had spent too much time there to not recognise it.

St Mungo's?

Possibly...

He had only visited it on the one occasion when he, along with the Weasleys, had gone to see Arthur following his attack by Voldemort's snake.

As Harry scanned the ward with his eyes – again, he noticed his vision was somehow off – he struggled to read the sign on the door. Harry realised that he wasn't wearing his glasses, and cast about for them. Seeing them resting on his bedside table, he snatched them up and put them on. He read the sign's lettering.

_Ward 21:_

_Philip Oribasius Ward: Curse Damage_

Harry was bewildered. Curse damage?

He had no idea what the heck it meant. The last he remembered was of when Ginny and he had travelled to Luna's house; they had gone out with Luna for a walk, and …

After that, nothing. It was as if Harry had drawn a blank.

He shook his head, struggling in vain to recall other details. Suddenly a light bulb came on in Harry's brain.

**_Ginny_!**

Harry flew out of bed, thrusting aside the restricting duvet cover, and stood still for a moment as a rush of dizziness assaulted him. He had to lean against the wall to steady himself. He then saw the shape of a bed close by and stumbled over.

A young man with a hideous visage, pockmarked with open blisters, lay sleeping, his mouth agape. Harry recoiled back from the sickening sight and moved to the next bed.

Harry grimaced in annoyance – his vision was still wrong in some undefinable way; the room was swaying; he was wearing his glasses and still something indefinably odd was going on. He kept misjudging distances, bumping into things that he should have been able to neatly avoid, and missing the first time when he reached out to hold things.

No, this bed was empty. Harry looked about the room.

**There! Across the room …**

Red hair formed a halo around a pale, freckled face crisscrossed with a red line, similar to a thin welt, running down from her forehead diagonally, across her nose and down to the corner of her mouth. She seemed at peace, her eyes closed and face expressionless.

"_Ginny_."

He whispered her name as if in prayer, and reached out to stroke her cheek. He poked her skin harder than he meant to and quickly adjusted his hand's position. Her skin was warm and soft to his touch. The girl beneath shifted slightly. Harry climbed onto the bed and kissed her lightly on the lips before collapsing fully onto the mattress, his face turned towards his love. He rested his palm against her cheek.

"Ginny," he mumbled again.

Without realising it, Harry Potter quickly and effortlessly slipped back into slumber.

…

"Were they still alright after we left them last night?" Mrs. Weasley's face betrayed her distress as she watched the female Healer.

"Their condition has improved slightly, but it's still going to be a while before they wake," said the Healer primly.

She turned to the grim-faced Auror standing guard over the entrance to the Hospital Wing. The Auror gave her a terse once-over.

"Who was the rebel leader that overthrew the Muggle king and queen?" he growled.

"Oliver Cromwell."

Mr. Weasley comforted his wife, wrapping a warm arm around her shoulder, as the Auror allowed the Healer access to the ward. She magically unlocked the door and let them all inside the wing.

George, Bill, Fleur, Percy, and Charlie had accompanied their parents to check up on Harry and Ginny. Ron and Hermione were still in Australia, but Bill had sent off a letter to them, informing them of the apparent attack on the two, and that their friends were safe, but hospitalised. The family was waiting for their reply, but didn't expect it to come soon, as Australia was such a vast distance away.

As the Weasleys followed the Healer into the ward, the woman walked ahead to check on Ginny, but stopped short, astonishment plainly written all over her face at the sight before her. Seeing her surprise, the Weasley's quickly rushed over to Ginny's bed and they, too, pulled up short, Mrs. Weasley gasping audibly and holding a hand to her bosom.

Harry was lying on the bed beside Ginny. How on earth had he gotten there? Some people turned around to check Harry's bed, and sure enough, it was empty, the covers thrown wide open. Amazement and hope rose in their hearts. Harry had actually woken up! But how?

The Healer was in a fluster. "They shouldn't be together! Harry must go back to his bed – he'll be freezing otherwise!"

The Weasleys looked at each other before nodding in agreement with the female Healer. Harry was lying uncovered atop the duvet that kept Ginny warm – they couldn't have him catching pneumonia. The Healer quickly sized up the younger Weasley men. She pointed to Charlie and George, saying, "You two – could you carry Harry over back to his bed?"

The two nodded and moved to either side of Ginny's bed. George, on the far side, leaned over to help Charlie lift Harry up under the shoulders. As soon as they began to lift him off of the bed, things suddenly began to happen very quickly. There was a brief flash of fire from nowhere; both Harry and Ginny moaned as they went into uncontrollable convulsions. Ginny's head whipped from side to side as she thrashed. Harry's jaws opened and closed and his face scrunched up in distress. A resonant note of sound rang through the air, and in the next instant, both Charlie and George were flung upwards and away from the bed. They landed with a resounding crash several feet down the ward.

With a cry, the rest of the Weasleys rushed over to George and Charlie's aid.

Groaning, Charlie and George were helped off of the floor and deposited in chairs that were hastily conjured into existence by Mr. Weasley. As the two men were seated, Bill, Fleur, and Percy quickly looked to check whether Ginny and Harry were still convulsing – but no, they had fallen back into calm slumber, as if nothing had happened.

The Auror stationed outside burst into the ward, wand out at the ready. "What is going on?" he demanded.

No one answered.

After making sure that Charlie and George were not injured, the Healer glanced uneasily over at Harry and Ginny, dithered for a moment, and finally turned to the Auror, whose wand was still raised. In a wobbly voice, she explained to him what had happened.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had eyes for no one but their injured sons, however.

"My sons! Are you all right? Are you hurt?" cried Mrs. Weasley, fussing over her sons.

"Agh! It hurts, it hurts …" Charlie groaned, clutching at his temples.

George was sitting forward in his chair, his forehead resting in his trembling hands. "Merlin! My _head_ …"

Both appeared oblivious to their mother fussing agitatedly over them.

The other Weasleys were disturbed at the unforeseen turn of events.

"Do you know what just happened, Dad?" Percy asked.

"I have no idea," said Mr. Weasley anxiously. "I've never seen anything like this."

"Zat - zat looked like a … er… _Charme_ _Bannisment _… to me. But...?" began Fleur uncertainly.

Mrs. Weasley looked up from her sons. "Do any of you know what that sound was? And where on earth did that fire come from?"

Everyone shook their heads in response to her questions, except for the Healer and the Auror, who were deep in their own discussion.

"What _I_ want to know is, how on earth did Harry wake from his coma? It's been five days -" demanded Bill.

"Bill, we don't know!" interrupted Percy.

Bill glared at him.

"Zat fire and strange sound must be seemply accidental mageek, non?" Fleur said, breaking the tension between the brothers.

"I'd certainly like to think so. But …" her father-in-law trailed off uncertainly.

Mrs. Weasley came up to him and buried herself in his arms. "I really hope that someone can find out what's going on," she said. Her eyes were moist and she shook her head. "M-my precious girl … poor H-Harry …" she trailed off as she tried to control her sobs.

Charlie spoke out aloud, taking everyone by mild surprise. He looked as if he had suffered a very bad head-cold. "Bill, you said _five days_?"

"Yeah," said Bill. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you the whole story before you rushed back from Romania. Someone attacked them as they were walking from Xenophilius Lovegood's house."

He glanced to his parents; they nodded in confirmation before he continued.

"We don't know who it was exactly. Someone saw a Dark Mark, but when they looked again after calling the Aurors, it had disappeared. The Aurors who got to the scene found Harry and Ginny underneath where the Mark was said to be seen, and found several other dead bodies."

Charlie was aghast. "_Dead _bodies?_ Dark Mark?_"

"Yes," said Mr. Weasley, taking over from Bill. "Thankfully Ginny and Harry were still alive when the Aurors found them, but they were already in a coma." He cast a sad glance over to Ginny's bed.

"At least we know now that Harry woke," Percy said. "That's a good sign, is it not?"

"I hope so," said Mrs. Weasley quietly, speaking for them all. They stood around in silence, not willing to break it, all lost in thought.

"Alright", the Auror spoke up gruffly, his unexpected voice taking them all by surprise. "Here's what I'm going to do. I'm taking the boy back to his bed with magic. I advise all of you to stand back in case anything happens." He gave them a grim smile.

Both Charlie and George looked alarmed at those words.

"No! Don't!" George cried as he jumped from his seat. His brother, too, rose and yelled, "You must not! I've seen – they must stay -" his voice was cut off as his parents forced the two back into their chairs.

The others watched apprehensively as the Auror strode purposefully to Ginny's bed. The Auror looked down at the young couple for a moment, before raising his wand. He muttered the spell indistinctly.

As before, Harry and Ginny suddenly went into convulsions straight away; Ginny arched her back and her arms flailed through the air. Harry contorted his body into disturbing angles as he thrashed about on the bed. A long stream of gibberish issued from his mouth before he, abruptly and shockingly, spoke intelligibly in a dreadful voice not his own: "_Touch not with thy magic or thy hands, intruders_."

The Auror's wand shot from his hand like a slippery bar of soap and ricocheted off of the ceiling; the man himself was thrown off his feet, crashed into the wall behind him, and landed on top of the sleeping man with the pockmarked face. The Healer, Fleur, and Mrs. Weasley screamed along with him, as the other men watched in horror.

While everyone else was distracted, Harry and Ginny flopped back down onto the bed and moved no more. The soft _thump_ from their landing on the mattress and duvet caught the others' attention again. Everyone gaped at the sleeping pair, half-expecting them to rise again, and Harry to speak in that terrible alien voice.

Mrs. Weasley's knees buckled and Bill hastily caught her as she collapsed. Grunting, he deposited her onto a stiff chair, conjured this time by Percy. A cry broke the silence, but it was not the young couple unconscious a few feet away. Then they located the source of the noise and some gasped.

The Healer, along with Bill, Percy, and Mr. Weasley, ran forward to the pockmarked man's bed. The patient, now awake and completely terrified, was raining blows down on the Auror, beating him with his bare hands. The poor Auror was trying feebly to fend off the blows and attempting to extricate himself from the bed at the same time. Bill and Percy struggled to restrain the pockmarked man, attempting to seize his flailing arms and force him back onto his pillow. Percy yelled and recoiled as a flying hand struck him in the face. The female Healer fumbled within her robes, and shakily brought out her wand.

"_S-stupefy!_"

The patient collapsed back onto his bed, out cold. The Auror himself did not appear to be much better, and he groaned as he slipped off of the bed onto the floor. The Healer tried to examine him to see if he had any injuries, but the Weasleys could see that her poor nerves were finished.

Finally the Healer stopped up and muttered, "I'll get the Head Healer. I'll be right back."

She stumbled out the room. The Weasley's exchanged uneasy glances at one another, then at Harry and Ginny, reluctant to speak of the bewildering events that had transpired. Mrs. Weasley hovered over George and Charlie, who were still suffering from their injuries.

They all looked up as the Healer returned with a tall, serious-faced man. She introduced him as Head Healer Smith. He greeted Mr. and Mrs. Weasley before nodding to the rest of them. Quickly, the female Healer brought her colleague up to speed. The Head Healer's expression became increasingly puzzled as the woman described Harry and Ginny's behaviour and the events thereafter.

"Well … how very odd," said Healer Smith. He looked around the ward, assessing the situation for himself before seeming to come to a decision; he turned back to his colleague and said, "The Auror must be seen to."

She nodded, and the two Healers bent over the Auror. After a few minutes, Healer Smith helped the Auror get up into a sitting position; the official grimaced in pain.

"It appears he has dislocated his shoulder … are the boy and the girl still asleep?" asked the Head Healer.

All of them glanced to Harry and Ginny. The two were still dead to the world. It was clear that they were, definitely, not going to move again at the present.

Healer Smith shook his head in bemusement. He turned to the others. "I think that it's best to just leave them alone at this stage. We will have to move their bed to a private ward so that no one else can be hurt."

The Weasleys nodded. The Head Healer, with help from the female Healer, helped the injured Auror to stand, and, carrying him on their shoulders together, walked out of the ward. The Weasleys were left to watch over the sleeping boy and girl. It was only then that the Weasleys slowly began to come to terms with their shock and fear.

Mr. Weasley raised his wand and a blanket flew out of the tip. Mrs. Weasley seemed to have calmed some of her frayed nerves and regained the ability to stand; together, he and his wife lay the conjured blanket over Harry's body, tucking in the corners. Neither spoke to each other, or anyone else.

As they waited, the Weasley family could do naught but listen to their own fearful thoughts and wonder silently.


	9. Chapter 9

A thank you to **CrimsonShocker** for beta-reading this chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own J.K. Rowling's works and forfeit any claim of profit from publishing on this site.

* * *

><p><strong>Sacred Fire<strong>

Chapter 09

* * *

><p><strong>It's so warm and comfy.<strong>

Harry felt at peace with the world. He lay on the bed, his eyes closed. He had just awoken, but did not feel the need to open his eyes. He could feel the presence of his love as she lay beside him, her breathing deep and even.

He felt her stir as she, too, came awake. He opened his eyes and watched as she reflexively stretched her muscles and yawned widely. Harry felt himself yawn in response.

**Sleep much _too_ short … **

**Where am I?**

At the thought, Harry shot upright and quickly looked around. Then it came back to him. They were in a different room this time, but still, recognisably, in the same hospital – St Mungo's. He started to lie back onto the bed …

**St Mungo's? Impossible –**

Harry felt an alien spike of fear and confusion.

Shaking his head and wondering where it had come from, he glanced over and saw Ginny, awake, with a scared expression on her face.

**W – where are we?**

"Harry … where are we?" Ginny whispered, her eyes beseeching him to explain.

**What the? What …**

" … do you mean?" Harry asked Ginny.

**St Mungo's! What happened**

" … to us?" she breathed softly. At her words, a rush of memories flashed in Harry's mind: the walk to Luna – rain – a copse of trees – darkness – roaring flames and a pair of glowing eyes -

"That giant bird!" Ginny blurted.

Tense silence hung between the two of them.

"How – how did you know what I was thinking?" whispered Harry, shocked. Had they – had they really been communicating soundlessly?

Ginny's face reflected his maelstrom of emotions so well that it was unnerving to see.

**I –I don't know! I just saw …**

Utter bewilderment filtered through Harry's brain as he watched Ginny shrug helplessly, hugging herself.

**You just saw? No …**

" … No, wait. Something weird is going on here," muttered Harry. He closed his eyes briefly for a moment and upon re-opening, his eyes fell on Ginny again, resting on her face, noting both the familiar features and the odd thin scar running across the bridge of her nose from her eye.

Keenly aware of Harry's anxious scrutiny of her, Ginny reached up and felt her face. She felt the scar and tentatively traced her finger along it, discovering where it began and ended.

"W-what happened?" she asked, her whispered tone terrified.

"I don't know," Harry muttered. "We were … at Luna's, I think."

Fear and uncertainty bubbled up in Ginny's mind.

"You … you don't think we've been attacked?"

**No!** Harry said forcefully in his mind. Ginny recoiled slightly, but Harry was so caught up in the moment that her reaction went unnoticed.

"No … I mean … we - we would remember if we were attacked, wouldn't we?" he said, reaching out and gripping Ginny's hand for reassurance. His eyes stared into her own, searching desperately for an answer she, herself, did not know.

Ginny's heart broke. "I- I do not know …" Hot tears forced their way into her eyes and she tried to blink them away.

"And … and how is it we can hear … each other?" her bespectacled boyfriend muttered.

**Hear each other?** Ginny thought, nonplussed. "What …"

Harry quickly cut off her question. From his eyes, Ginny saw that he had known what she was going to ask.

Ginny? Can you hear me?

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

**Hear me? Hear me?** Ginny's mind took hold of the words and repeated them to itself in a monotonous litany, trying to make sense of the situation.

Her eyes were wide and she was shaking her head slightly. She began to tremble.

Instantly Harry was enfolding her into his arms, gripping her tightly as she fought to regain her sense of equilibrium.

**Not … possible. Just … not possible**, she said over and over in her head, aware of that presence, familiar and alien at the same time, Harry Potter's very intelligence, in her own mind, hearing her _every_ thought.

Harry himself was not faring much better. He, too, strove mightily to contain the confusion and terror that threatened to overwhelm him. Harry felt – no, hoped – that by comforting Ginny he would be able to take control of himself and the maelstrom of thoughts and sensations that cornered him in a cerebral trap from which he could not escape.

Ginny gulped and she gaped at Harry. Finally she managed to choke out her words.

"You-you spoke. Your mouth did not move, but I – I _heard_ you!"

They sat together on the bed, frozen, staring at one another, their wild, rambling logic confirmed.

_They could read each other's minds._

Ginny gave an uncertain laugh at that.

**Stop it!** Harry cried.

**S-stop what? You – I don't understand! **

**Please … be quiet! Just – just stop!**

**I can't! I can't stop hearing your thoughts! **Ginny exclaimed.

Tension and frustration rose in Harry. He screamed in his head. He jerked violently away from the girl, seizing his hair in fear and frustration.

**_Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargggh!_**

**Now YOU stop it! You're making ME angry as well! **Ginny protested, rearing back from the man across from her. She delivered a painful slap to his shoulder and scooted away from him as much as was possible on the bed, her face a mixture of scowling ire and consternation.

**Damn, that hurt, you …** Harry's thoughts trailed off as he was struck as he had countless times in happier times of how her red hair framed her face and complemented her chocolate-brown eyes. Ginny stared mulishly back with a fierce expression. **Beautiful Ginny**, he thought.

Immediately he felt a panic. He was not supposed to think that! He was still angry with her - wasn't he? **Shit! Damn – sorry – I mean- that just ... slipped out -**

Ginny stared at him, not speaking. Harry's words then registered with her. Something clicked in her brain; the anger and fear seemed to melt away and tentative hope and joy rose deep within her chest. The perceiving of the feelings that so obviously did not come from within but another person was such a foreign sensation for Harry that he did not know how to deal with it and felt almost overwhelmed.

**I'm – I'm … beautiful? Even if I have this …**

An image of a hideously grotesque, massive scar gashed across his face flashed through Harry's brain; he suddenly realised Ginny was imagining the worst as he impalpably felt her fear.

Tentatively he reached out and grasped her delicate face in his hands. "Ginny … you are beautiful. I mean it," he whispered aloud.

Ginny could feel Harry's deep and abiding love for her, despite his current trepidation and uncertainty, and the wonder and pleasure that he always had whenever he saw her and admired her physical features, deep heart, passionate, caring nature and courage. He could not care less about that scar that she knew was now stuck on her face; the scar was _not_ what defined her, but her personality, her compassionate, fiery nature that drew Harry to her so powerfully.

**Harry, I love you so much,** Ginny said, her eyes shining. As her hand reached up and grasped his wrist, she, in turn, opened up her feelings for Harry, her brave, proud warrior; her knight in shining armour; who'd rescued her from the diabolical evil that was Voldemort; who was the only man who could have taken on Tom Riddle and won.

Harry and Ginny, as one, lay back on the bed and huddled together, basking in the feeling of their love for one another as their fears seemed to ebb away, as in tune with each other as their own selves, their petty disagreement fading into memory.

**I can't believe this is happening**, whispered Ginny, though no one else but Harry could hear her thought.

Harry did not reply, but allowed his contentment to flow unchecked throughout his mind as he played with a strand of Ginny's hair. Their minds rose together in song as they basked in their love for one another. Their thoughts stepped past each other as though playing in a well-rehearsed dance; the thought **my warrior** trot its place in Ginny's mind in step with Harry's **Ginny, my Ginny,** which was twirling endlessly as a kind of mantra in his psyche.

**This is so weird and freaky and wonderful at the same time … **he said at last.

**True … true, **Ginny said cautiously.

They lay together in silence.

**Ginny?**

**Harry?**

**There's … I think something's wrong with my sight.**

**I can see that.**

**Uh –what? You can _see_ - ?**

**Your glasses, silly! They're skew.**

**I know, Ginny, but that's not it. **Harry raised his head and pushed his spectacles back up the bridge of his nose. **It's just that it's …**

Harry went silent as a horrifying revelation occurred to him. Ginny, seeing what he was thinking, gasped and squeezed his hand hard.

**No Harry! You can't be blind!**

_**I can't see out of my left eye! **_Harry cried, distressed. Ginny's eyes reflected his panic as she vehemently shook her head.

**No! Please don't say that!**

**It can't be, it can't be, it isn't real, **Harry moaned, clutching at his hair. Yet there was no denying it. No matter how many times Harry shut his eyes and blinked, he could see out of his right eye only. He could feel that his other eye was open, could feel the air caressing it, but he could not see from that side.

His mind rebelled at the thought. He refused to accept it. It was not real; it had to be a bad joke; it had to be untrue! Harry gave a cry of pure anguish in his mind, causing Ginny to tear up and attempt to wipe them away.

**Why? Why? **_**Why**_**?** Harry moaned repeatedly.

**What happened, Harry? Why did this happen?** Ginny lamented.

Harry sat forward and cradled his face in his hands. **Don't know**, he replied to Ginny's question. It was a good question, a fair one – why had it happened, and why him?

Ginny's earlier words came back to haunt them. _… you don't think we've been attacked …_

No, impossible, it couldn't be true … could it?

Harry felt himself be drawn into Ginny's small arms, felt her arms wrapping around his head, felt her bury her nose in his hair, felt her body tremble with the misery she shared with him. Harry's eyes welled up with tears and he let them fall, running down his face. He began to feel himself shiver with the force of his emotions and did not stop.

**Harry, oh Harry**, Ginny kept saying in her thoughts, a plaintive cry repeating itself over and over.

The sound of a door creaking open reached their ears, and Harry and Ginny looked up.

The door of the single ward had opened, and a woman dressed in a Healer's robes strode up the room towards them, followed by a very familiar face with dark skin and a golden earring in one ear.

"Kingsley!" Harry exclaimed, sitting back up.

The former Auror and newly elected Minister for Magic smiled down at the pair in the bed.

"I see you're awake, Harry! And you too, Miss Weasley! Excellent, excellent," said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep, reassuring voice.

The female Healer blocked their view of the Minister as she leaned in to peer closely at Harry's face. He recoiled slightly at her proximity. Abruptly the Healer laid a hand on Harry's forehead, surprising him with her action; without giving him time to recover, she then bent down and pressed her fingers on the skin of his chest at regular intervals.

**What-?**

"Uh, what are you doing?" he muttered.

"It seems to have healed up," the Healer said, ignoring Harry as she turned to Kingsley. "Mr Potter should be fine after a few more days in bed."

"This is good news. And the young lady?" Kingsley enquired.

Ginny flushed. "I'm fine," she protested weakly as the Healer turned to examine her in turn. "Really! I'm – OW!" Ginny shouted as the Healer prodded her shoulder, which Harry now saw was covered with gauze. As the pain shot through Ginny's shoulder, Harry grimaced in empathy as he felt it through their mysterious connection.

"She will still need to stay here while her shoulder recovers from the spell damage."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other as he experienced her bewilderment and she his strong sense of dismay at the sight of her shoulder.

**Spell damage?** She asked quizzically.

Harry's mind flashed to a memory of the previous ward they had occupied. Ginny, through this unknown connection she and Harry shared, caught a glimpse of the sign on that door, and the small frown on her forehead increased.

Harry looked back at Kingsley. The tall ex-Auror was nodding and murmuring as he spoke to the serious-faced Healer; she then turned and left the ward, leaving the three of them alone.

Kingsley flicked his wand and a finely upholstered Chesterfield chair appeared out of thin air, landing with a thud beside Harry and Ginny's bed. He smiled grimly at the couple as he settled into his seat. Up close, he looked terrible; his face was lined with haggardness and stress.

"Thank you for coming here, uh … er…"

"Please, just call me Kingsley," said the Minister cordially, "We have been on a first name-basis before, and I see no reason to stop now."

Harry gave an uncertain half-smile at that. "Very well then, Kingsley. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I wanted to check up on you and see how you have been recovering so far," Kingsley replied, leaning forward in his conjured chair and attempting to contort his face into a grin, but not quite succeeding. "Actually, I have been hoping to ask you a couple of questions," he added seriously, almost as an afterthought.

"Okay, we're ready," said Harry, as Ginny nodded.

"First of all: how are you feeling?"

"Er … in what way?"

"I'm sorry; forgive me. I know Healer Barker said you are well on your way to recovery. I would like to know how you are personally feeling."

"Well, I suppose we are feeling okay right now," the bespectacled young man said.

"That's good; that's good," murmured Kingsley slowly. "And how about you, Miss Weasley?"

"I - I'm still sore from the Healer poking at my shoulder, but otherwise I think I'm fine."

Kingsley nodded, satisfied. He sat at the edge of his seat, proceeding to steeple his fingers.

"Harry, Miss Weasley, this is extremely important - I would like you to please tell me what happened on that night. I assure you that your testimony will be absolutely confidential; not one word that is spoken between us today will leave this room. This I swear on my honour as an Auror and Minister of Magic."

His sombre pronouncement done, Kingsley's eyes searched Harry's face keenly as he waited for the forthcoming reply.

Harry hesitated and he retreated into himself, thinking.

**What happened that night? Remember what?** He wondered.

**Ask him**, urged Ginny.

"Um … I – I don't know, Kingsley."

The Minister's expression was that of perplexed astonishment; he had not expected this answer.

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Look- Kingsley," said Harry desperately, "I _really_ do not know what the hell is just going on – the last we remember is when Ginny and I went to Luna Lovegood's house, and after that the next thing we know is we're waking up in a hospital ward in St Mungo's and apparently we've got _spell damage_?"

Kingsley sat and regarded them in silence, his mouth hidden under his hand.

Finally he let his hand fall away and spoke, "You … you do not remember?"

"Remember what, exactly?" queried Harry, Ginny watching with equally keen interest.

Kingsley Shacklebolt did not answer, but ran his hands over his face, clearly deeply unsettled.

"You were ambushed," he told them.

**Ambushed?**

"How? When? By whom?" Harry and Ginny demanded.

"That is what I had hoped to answer by coming to see you," muttered Kingsley with the air of disappointed defeat.

"This … this is crazy," fumed Harry, flinging himself back onto his pillows.

"Um … Minister?" Kingsley looked up at Ginny's halting words.

"Could- could you tell us what you do know? Because Harry and I really don't know _anything_, except for … one or two things."

"Very well; I will tell you what I know, and you can tell me what you do remember in turn. Deal?" replied the dark-skinned man, sitting up again.

He surveyed the young couple: Harry's visage dark and brooding, Ginny's bewildered and frank. The redheaded girl nodded for herself and Harry both, indicating that Kingsley should go ahead.

"Well, we began our investigation by confirming whether you did turn up at the Lovegoods' place," Kingsley began.

"Xenophilius's daughter confirmed that you had left later in the evening. We found traces of tracking and concealment charms in the area around the Lovegoods' place, and found the last of the dying anti-Apparation wards. Reports I have read say that, about fifteen minutes after the time of your departure from the Lovegoods, a Dark Mark appeared; it was sighted by the Fawcett family, who also live in the area. When we checked for the residue of the spells that had been cast in the area, we found that the Dark Mark had persisted for about an hour before the Fawcetts glimpsed it. We also found evidence of the Unforgivables having been used. The Fawcetts contacted the Ministry at once, and representatives of the Auror office raced to the scene, fearing it was a Death Eater attack."

Kingsley paused here, watching Harry and Ginny's horrified, enthralled faces.

"By the time the Aurors had arrived, the Dark Mark had mysteriously dissipated. They found you two lying, injured and unconscious, on a piece of ground that looked as if it had been burnt under a fire. You were surrounded by a dozen dead bodies, presumably that of your attackers. Of those who were identifiable, none were known Death Eaters, however."

Harry and Ginny lay in stunned silence at these words.

"This is the reason why I hoped you would have some clues to help us in this case," said Kingsley seriously.

"It has been a very difficult job with the press having got wind of the attack on you and the re-appearance of the Dark Mark. The public has been crying out for swift justice. I cannot tell you how much pressure I have been under – I have had to take a Calming Draught every night, so that I might get some sleep."

Harry opened his mouth. "I'm very -"

"Please!" the Minister waved his hand impatiently, cutting off Harry's apology. "There's no need to say you are sorry! It's not your fault! If anything, it is mine, since I failed to give you protection when it was needed the most."

"M-minister, please don't be so hard on yourself," said Ginny haltingly.

Kingsley gave a small snort of amusement. "Please, my dear, call me Kingsley. I have quite enough people calling me 'Minister' all day, thank you." He gave a half-hearted laugh.

"Call me Ginny," said Harry's girlfriend in response, her mouth twitching.

"I'm sorry we don't remember anything, except for that Dark Mark you mentioned, and that it was raining," said Harry, speaking up again.

"We also remember something like a phoenix, a giant bird bigger than anything we had ever seen."

"A _giant_ phoenix? What is … this?" muttered Kingsley, sitting straighter in his chair and looking keenly at them again.

"We don't know either," said Harry earnestly, "but I'm telling you, there was definitely a phoenix or bird of some sort there."

"That's very strange," Kingsley said, grasping his strong chin and slowly shaking his head in confusion. "Well, I don't know what to make of that."

All three fell into silence, each thinking their own thoughts. Harry and Ginny kept glancing as each other as their thoughts jumbled together and past one another; it was a hard exercise working out whose thoughts were whose.

Finally, Kingsley sighed and he stood up. He 'Vanished' his posh leather-covered chair with his wand and shook hands with Harry and Ginny.

"It has been good speaking with you," Kingsley said. "Thank you very much for your help. I unfortunately have to go to a meeting very soon. A safe and speedy recovery to you both."

"Actually, Kingsley, I've been lying," said Harry quietly as the Minister turned to go. The ex-Auror paused.

"And why is that?"

"I've been lying by saying that I'm O.K. I'm not, to tell the truth."

Kingsley's face became full of concern. "Tell me," he urged.

"I'm … I'm …" he could not finish.

"He can't see out of his left eye," Ginny explained for him. **Thank you**, he told her.

Kingsley Shacklebolt looked alarmed. "You mean to say that he's blind?"

"In this eye," muttered Harry, indicating it with his finger.

He and the Minister of Magic gazed silently at one another.

"Okay, you stay there," said Kingsley decisively, "I will get the Healers down here quickly and tell them what has happened."


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you very much to **CrimsonShocker** for beta-reading this chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own J.K. Rowling's works and forfeit any claim of profit from publishing on this site.

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><p><strong>Sacred Fire<strong>

Chapter 10

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><p>Kingsley Shacklebolt's hand rose into the air to stop the other people in their tracks. His golden earrings glinted in the light as they swung, their stillness upset by the momentum of his turn to face the two Healers.<p>

"Now, I need you to please keep what I am about to tell you quiet from Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley."

The two Healers and the assistant nodded.

"As I spoke to them earlier, I watched them carefully, the way in which they talked and interacted with each other. It was as if they had telepathy. They acted as if they had known each other all their lives, and they seemed to know what the other was going to say even before it came from their mouth. It was unnerving to watch."

"Indeed? You also told us that Mr. Potter has sight problems in one eye," said the female Healer.

"And so I did, Healer Barker," said the Minister gravely. "Come, let us go in so that you can examine for yourselves."

The two people in question had begun to grow annoyed with each other while they had waited for Kingsley to return.

**Why must girls think of so many things at once? Stop talking!** Harry said irritably at Ginny, who glared back.

**Oh yeah? How about **_**you **_**stop moaning and groaning about your eye and about what could have happened to us? Hypocrite!**

And she smacked him on the shoulder besides her. It stung, but Harry wasn't going to tell her that.

**Calling me a hypocrite, huh? You –**

What he had been going to say to Ginny, she never knew, as the ward doors opened to reveal the Minister of Magic and, following behind, two Healers (one familiar and one not) and an assistant, distracting Harry completely.

"Harry, Ginny, the Healers are here: you must tell them every detail of your problem, okay?" said Kingsley seriously.

"I would stay, but time is pressing and the meeting I have to attend is of utmost urgency. Until then, adieu." The Minister smiled at them apologetically, waved a hand of farewell before sweeping from the ward.

Healer Barker blocked Harry's sight of Kingsley's retreating figure as she leant over him, peering into his eyes.

"What is the matter, dear?" she asked in a businesslike tone.

Harry gestured towards his problematic eye. "I ... I can't see out of this one," he said in a quiet voice.

"Let me see," said the Healer in a kinder tone. She tilted Harry's face back and firmly stretched his eyelids wide open with her fingers. Harry squirmed uncomfortably under her touch, struggling to control the impulse to jerk away. Ginny grimaced in empathy.

The first Healer called the other to examine Harry's eye as well. This Healer was a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties with a pleasant face. "He's an eye specialist," Healer Barker explained to Harry and Ginny.

The second Healer moved in to look at Harry's eye. After a few moments, he muttered, "The iris's dilated … " He slowly raised his wand to Harry's face. Harry, seeing the Healer's action, jerked reactively.

"It's okay, Mr. Potter," the eye specialist whispered. "I'm not going to poke your eye with my wand."

Beside them Ginny giggled at the small joke. The Healer muttered a complex-sounding incantation and Harry felt the sensation of magic wash over him. Suddenly a hologram of a few runic marks appeared from thin air. The Healer read them intently, a furrowed eyebrow creased over his forehead. As he finished looking at the last rune, his eyebrows rose almost to the hairline. He turned to the first Healer, a look of consternation on his face. "This situation is serious. His eye cannot be healed, either by magical or Muggle methods. We -"

His next few words were drowned by Harry and Ginny's shouted "_WHAT?_"

"Are you absolutely certain? What if -" Healer Barker began, but the eye specialist harrumphed, interrupting her.

"I did not make a mistake! The runes do not lie!" he snapped. As he caught Harry's gaze, he seemed to slowly deflate.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," he said gently. Awkwardly he patted Harry's slumped shoulder.

"We cannot heal your eye, but what we _can_ do, to help restore your sight … is to give you an artificial eye."

"How would that help Harry?" Ginny spoke up for the first time.

The two Healers regarded her solemnly. The male Healer said, "We will give him an artefact which has a state-of-the-art range, complete with the most complex enchantments available. And we will give it to you for free, Mr. Potter."

"For free? Why?" Harry asked.

The Healer seemed somewhat surprised by the question.

"Why? For bringing peace to the wizarding world or once and for all, of course!"

Harry looked uncomfortable at that statement, but as he could not deny its truth, he remained silent.

"Yes, Mr. Potter," the eye specialist murmured. "We will give you the best eye model available, and I promise on my skill and reputation as one of the best eye specialists at St. Mungo's that there will be no imperfections with it."

Suddenly, Harry's mind flashed back to Petunia's kitchen and an electric-blue eye spinning about madly in a glass of water, and he snorted with amusement.

"Why are you laughing?" asked the Healer, looking vaguely offended.

"He's so happy that you're doing this for him," Ginny said quickly, helping Harry save face. She glanced sideways at him and continued, "Believe me, sir, what you're doing for him really means a lot for both of us." She gave them her best smile.

The eye specialist nodded, appearing mollified, while Healer Barker beamed down at Ginny, her businesslike exterior cracking enough to reveal that she was touched at Ginny's words.

The male Healer turned to confer with Healer Barker, their voices low and indistinct. Finally, Healer Barker's head bobbed in response to the other, and she turned back to Harry and Ginny. "Healer Powell will arrange for you to be fitted with the artificial eye, Harry. He estimates that it will be likely sometime next week."

"Good to know," said Harry.

Powell leaned over and gripped Harry's palm in a handshake. "It's such a pleasure to meet you at last," he said, his professional air absent for the moment. "I'm very glad that I would be the one to help you; it's a honour!"

"Uh … thank you?" Harry said.

"Not at all," the Healer smiled, and he made sure to include Ginny in the interaction. After greeting her (although in much less effusive tones), he finally left with Healer Barker, who before departing issued the standard admonition to both of them to rest.

As she closed the ward door behind her, Healer Powell muttered to her, "Merlin, Shacklebolt wasn't kidding."

…

As the day wore on, Harry and Ginny, tiring of each other and the constant intrusion of one's thoughts on the other, withdrew into themselves and did not speak to each other. Harry dozed for a while, and Ginny got up from the bed and stared out the window of the single ward they shared.

The clicking of the door's lock being released sounded and Ginny looked around, glad for the distraction. When she saw whom it was that had come to visit them, she gave a cry.

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny ran to one another and fell into a tight embrace, each gripping the other as if afraid to let go.

Finally, they broke apart and gazed into each other's eyes. Mrs. Weasley looked close to tears as she took in Ginny's appearance.

"Oh, my little girl, you're awake … thank Merlin …"

Ginny smiled. "I'm so happy that you came! And Daddy too!" she cried with delight, as she caught sight of her father standing off to the side, his face one of trepidation, joy and relief. He laughed weakly as he folded his arms around his only daughter.

"So good to see you, Firefly. So good to see you."

Ginny wiped at her eyes as she pulled away. "Mum, Dad … I've missed you …"

"Oh, you don't know the half of it, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, and the three of them smiled anew at one another. Mr. Weasley then turned and called behind him.

"Xenophilius! Luna! Don't be shy, come in!"

Ginny blinked in surprise at her friend and the girl's father.

"Luna?"

"Hi, Ginny. I've come to give you some stuff to keep the Wrackspurts out of your head."

"Good to see you too," Ginny smiled. She turned her attention to Xenophilius, who briefly met her gaze before dropping his eyes, quickly turning his head away.

"Well, shall we get seated, then?" said Mr. Weasley brightly, distracting both Ginny and Luna's father.

With a murmur of assent, the four of them returned to the bed, atop which Harry was still sleeping.

Ginny sat down and proceeded to shake him awake.

"No, let him sleep!" protested Mrs. Weasley, but she was too late, as Harry's eyes jerked open.

"Hmf?"

"Wake up, sleepyhead, as Mum, Dad, Luna and Mr. Lovegood are here."

" Oh, hey … what a surprise!" Harry quickly sat up and put his spectacles back on. Grinning, he shook Mr. Weasley's hand, and got crushed in a hug by Mrs. Weasley. He and Luna briefly embraced before Harry offered his hand to Xenophilius Lovegood. The blonde man slowly grasped Harry's hand and held it pinched between his fingers.

"Harry," Xenophilius began softly. "I am so, so sorry about what happened. I should have …"

"Mr. Lovegood, I want you to know that it wasn't your fault. What's happened has happened, and there's nothing anyone could have done about it," said Harry. He patted the back of Xenophilus's hand

"I … yes, yes, you're right, I suppose," Luna's father sighed.

"I heard Kingsley visited you earlier," said Mr. Weasley.

Ginny nodded in affirmation. "He was basically checking up on us and wanted to see if we could help him with this whole story."

"What kind of help, if I may ask?" enquired Mr. Weasley.

"Just whether we could remember anything of what happened to us," Harry said.

Ginny shook her head, half-closing her eyes as she did so. "He was somewhat disappointed that we weren't much help in that department."

"Why wouldn't you be of any help?" asked Mrs. Weasley, her brow furrowing.

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other, and rapid-fire thoughts whisked between them in seconds.

**We have to explain this every single time?** Harry grumbled.

**It's my parents**, Ginny said a little defensively. **They don't always understand.** Quickly, she turned back to the others.

"Harry and I don't remember much of –well, anything- that apparently happened to us. Our last memory was of us leaving you, Luna, and the next thing, we're waking up here in St. Mungo's."

"Merlin. Amnesia!" Mrs. Weasley muttered, then seemed to realise that she had spoken audibly, and held a shocked and embarrassed hand to her mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to -"

"Shh, it's okay, Molly," Mr. Weasley interjected before his wife rambled on. "We have this under control. Firefly, you truly do not recall anything? You, Harry?"

The bespectacled young man dropped his gaze as the girl next to him shook her head.

Mr. Weasley heaved a sigh as he sat back in his seat, his forehead creased with contemplative bemusement.

"We've got it under control," he repeated.

"I know what's ailing you," Luna said, "It's the Wrackspurts that got to you!"

Everyone looked at her in surprise - Mrs. Weasley muttering, "what?" - before Ginny, to the shock of them all, burst out into laughter.

Harry stared.

Mr. Weasley stared.

Luna, Mrs. Weasley and Xenophilius Lovegood stared.

They gaped at the redheaded girl, whose whole body was shaking with mirth, tears of laughter forming in her eyes.

Harry felt his cheek muscles working as he found himself beginning to smile as he watched his girlfriend laugh. Hesitantly, he began to join in.

Soon the others had followed suit and the ward rang with the group's laughter.

Finally, they all began to calm down. Ginny smiled and squeezed Luna in a tight hug.

"Oh, thank you, Luna, that was wonderful!"

Harry felt different – in a sense, he felt lighter, happier, than he had been in quite a while.

Mrs. Weasley wiped the tears from her face. "Oh, Ginny, you have no idea how fantastic it is to see you laugh and smile," she said in a thick voice.

"I know, Mum – I feel amazing," Ginny said as she sat in her mother's lap and allowed herself to be subjected to one of her mother's infamous embraces.

A comfortable silence followed, and they basked in it for a while. Eventually, Harry spoke up.

"So, how are the others? Ron, Hermione, George, everyone?"

"Ah, that is what we had come, in part, to tell you about," Mr. Weasley replied. "Ron and Hermione have heard what happened to you. Hermione sent back a reply as fast as she could and said that they had found her parents, and are trying to come home as quickly as possible," he said.

"How did it go with her parents?" asked Ginny.

"She wrote that their memories had been restored; the poor dears are still coming to terms that their own daughter wiped their minds and sent them to a different country. Fortunately they do understand that she was doing it for their safety's sake."

"Oh, that's good!" Harry felt Ginny's relief for Hermione sweep through her mind at the news.

"George is trying his best to cope," Mrs. Weasley murmured. The ward's festive atmosphere considerably lessened.

"I can't imagine how difficult this must be for him," Harry said.

"Very difficult," Ginny's father confirmed grimly. "He has gone back to the shop; Bill and Percy check up on him regularly and they tell us that he's not doing anything much, unfortunately. He's mostly sitting upstairs where he and - and Fred, well, lived." Mr. Weasley's lips briefly compressed themselves into a thin line. "He's left most of the work of running the shop to that assistant of his, Verity, I think she's called.

"Anyway, Bill has said that George has agreed to come with him when he next visits."

"And when is that?" Ginny asked, looking slightly worried.

"Bill says hopefully quite soon, but he can't make any promises as he's very busy at the bank," Mr. Weasley smiled for a moment.

"I think I will have to visit him, then," said Luna Lovegood serenely. Harry immediately got a vision of George Weasley being confused by Luna's bizarre statements and he inwardly smiled; the poor man would be half-scared to death. On the other hand, maybe it would shake him out of his depression.

"That's so kind of you, Luna," Ginny smiled. "I don't think that George would be ready for that yet, though."

Her parents chuckled a little at that, or at least Mr. Weasley did.

"Why not? I think it would be a good idea!" Xenophilius spoke up for the first time in a while.

"Well … he's not used to her … ideas," Ginny muttered. "And I don't know if it would be good for him."

"Oh, okay. Whenever he's ready, just tell me," Luna answered.

"I'll do that."

"Well, my dears, to go back to you not being able to remember things, would it not be a _good_ idea if we were to schedule a time for you to see someone about this?" Mrs. Weasley said in a suggestive voice

"Why?" asked Harry in surprise.

"No! For what reason, mum?" Ginny demanded.

Mr. Weasley held up a hand to cut off his wife's response and quell his daughter's stubbornness. When he had the attention of both, he spoke quietly.

"Your mother is right, Ginny. We need to make sure you do remember things, important, basic things. Please listen to me," he added urgently as Harry began to open his mouth, "We cannot be sure, and neither can you, that you remember everything else apart from the attack. At the very least, we need to help you come to terms with what happened."

Harry and Ginny could not fault his logic.

"Alright," Harry nodded grudgingly.

"Excellent," Mr. Weasley said.

Luna spoke up. "I think they're right. You need the Wrackspurts cleared from your mind."

…

A few days later Harry and Ginny found themselves face to face with Healer Powell, the eye specialist. At first Harry had been called alone, but Ginny had cajoled and pleaded with the Auror until he had relented and allowed her to accompany them to Healer Powell. Harry and Ginny had been escorted down a long, sterile hallway into another room, whose appearance was that of a large, well-lit dentist's practice. There was a table covered with many kinds of unrecognisable metal instruments and a large chair that looked as though its back support could be adjusted to lie flat. As far as Harry knew there were no dentists at St. Mungo's. He and Ginny had just finished taking in the room and its contents when Healer Powell himself arrived.

"Ah, there you are, Mr. Potter! And Miss," Powell added as he saw Ginny. The medical professional had brought a bright red, satchel bag. He hoisted it as he said, "I've constructed your artificial eye, Mr. Potter. I'm quite sure you'll be very pleased with it. Shall we get started?"

Harry was pointed to the chair. "Now, this is very important: you must be relaxed," Powell said firmly. "It will be easier and quicker. Lie down."

Harry, wondering what was going to happen next, lay back on the chair and removed his spectacles, which he wore out of habit despite the imbalance in his sight. The Healer pointed his wand at the chair; without warning, the chair's back fell downward into a 90-degree position. Not only that, but large tough straps flew around Harry's body and bound him tightly to his seat.

"What are you doing?" demanded Harry.

"I told you, relax," murmured the Healer. "You may hold your Miss's hand if it will make you feel better."

Ginny reached down and enclosed Harry's fingers in her warm hands, and a rush of love and affection surged between the two. They smiled briefly at each other as the Healer hovered over the table with the instruments and audibly opened the small satchel.

Powell's blurry face appeared in Harry's line of vision. "Right, Mr. Potter. I'm going to keep reminding you of this: _relax_. I promise that you will not feel a single thing. It will be painless."

He then muttered a couple of unintelligible words. Slowly, Ginny broke into a grin.

"Can you feel anything?" Powell asked Harry.

"No … why?" Harry said, puzzled. Ginny seemed to be struggling to keep herself from laughing.

**What's so funny?** he shot at her. Ginny quickly shook her head.

"My finger's tapping your nose right now," the Healer said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Ginny broke into a laugh.

Harry was shocked "How- how did you do that?"

"I cast a spell on your face which prevents pain from being felt," Healer Powell answered. "Now let's restore your sight."

He leaned over close to Harry's face and held a metal instrument with what looked like two hooks facing in opposite directions. The wicked-looking instrument descended.

Harry recoiled instinctively, trying to avoid the dangerous-looking object hovering close in his face.

"_Relax_, Mr. Potter," Healer Powell insisted. Harry squirmed as he struggled not to turn away from the Healer's equipment. Ginny squeezed his hand and he gripped fiercely back.

"Look at me," she murmured. Harry did so, staring at her, her brown eyes, the flaming red hair that framed her face. He drank in her features as he tried to resist the horrible stress he was feeling.

Healer Powell stood up for a moment. Then he bent down again.

"Yuck," Ginny's voice said. Harry squeezed his remaining eye shut and concentrated on his mysterious link with his love.

The fear and stress faded to a feeble background of white noise. He felt himself spiralling down, down, down, out of his body, and saturated himself with the sight and sound and feel of Ginny.

Abruptly he saw his own face. His intact eye was closed, while the other had been stretched wide open, the eyelids held apart by the small prongs on the metal instrument. Powell was busy removing the blind, useless eyeball using another instrument of a different design.

Harry/Ginny shuddered, but soldiered on as he/she continued to clutch Harry's hand to give him all her love and strength and support. Harry/Ginny watched in mingled fascination and disgust as Healer Powell severed the eye-stalk and quickly muttered a spell to instantly seal the cut and prevent it from bleeding.

"_Evanesco_."

After having promptly disposed of the dead organ, Healer Powell held up an ordinary-sized replica of an eyeball with a colourless iris. Harry experienced Ginny's thoughts and emotions as he watched through her eyes Healer Powell putting in the artificial eye.

Abruptly, Harry felt himself "back" in his own body. He listened as Powell began a litany of healing and other arcane medical spells. Finally, his voice slowed and switched back to a lighter tone.

"Well, we're done!"

"Hooray!" Ginny smiled.

"Yes, quite!" The Healer agreed. "Mr. Potter, I have created a magical connection between your eye and the area of your brain which governs vision. However, your brain needs to adjust to the connection and be able to interpret the signals it receives correctly. For this reason, Mr. Potter, you will not be able to open your eye for about a day or two."

"And you cannot do that even though you might try; I've seen to that," Healer Powell smirked.

"I've sealed your eyelids together magically until the necessary time period elapses. Let me tell you more about the eye I've made for you. As I promised, it is the most advanced model we have to date. It is made according to the strictest standards – of the quality required for top Magical Law Enforcement personnel. The eye will be able to change colour and adjust its size should you need to transform or disguise yourself in some way. It has great accuracy and can distinguish fine detail up to the length of half a mile away, and will be able to sense wards, magical concealment spells and the like. It will, like all standard military-grade artificial eyes, be able to penetrate walls and barriers to see any hidden weapons or traps. It's got three-sixty degree manoeuvrability, too."

"That is so amazing," Ginny said fervently.

"How come Mad-Eye didn't have this kind of stuff?" Harry asked.

"Mad-Eye?" the Healer asked.

"He means Alastor Moody, sir." Ginny explained.

"You knew the famous Auror?" Healer Powell said, appearing impressed. "Yes, Alastor Moody's eye lacked many of the features which your eye has. You must remember that Moody retired many years ago, and received his eye many years before that. We've made many great strides in the development of artificial eyes since then."

"What about natural eyes?" asked Ginny.

The Healer turned to face her as she spoke, and considered her question for a moment. "Unlike magical eyes, real eyes are very sensitive to magic, and things can go horribly wrong if the eye reacts badly to any magic enchantments laid upon it. Blindness could result … or things much worse. That is why we prefer to have charmed spectacles, that sort of thing instead."

"I see," said Harry, speaking for both his girlfriend and himself. "Healer, thank you for the eye … for everything."

Healer Powell laid a hand on Harry's shoulder for a moment. Then Ginny handed Harry his spectacles, and they all rose to their feet. "You should rest up for a bit, Mr. Potter," Powell advised. "The process will go quicker that way."

He opened the door and the Auror waiting outside turned expectantly. "The procedure is done, and it went well. Minister Shacklebolt will be pleased," Powell told the Auror, who nodded once in affirmation. The Auror accompanied the young couple back the way they had come.


End file.
